He is here. From the dimples in his cheeks to his long skinny toes...beautiful. And underneath the sweet smell of my powder and the spice of Daddy's soap is the softest warmest smell. I find myself burying my nose in the crown of his head or the crook of his neck, trying to capture that smell that is uniquely baby - and uniquely him.
Oh, how I am in awe of him. Of his flailing arms and deep blue eyes. Even his cries don't seem as sharp as the ones I remember from before. Holding him, the reassuring weight of him in my arms, reminds me that this...this is real. He is here, with us.
And I cannot find the words to thank God for this miracle. I have tried. He is fourteen days old - and I have tried. On my knees, with tears in my eyes, I have looked to heaven and tried to say thank you. But those words, though heartfelt, feel so inadequate. I can't help but feel that they are not enough.
How humbling it is for me - someone who feels the power of words so keenly - to have none. To search my vocabulary, my knowledge and my books, and find no way to express myself. How comforting to know that God knows my heart. HE knows my joy and gratitude.
I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him.
1 Samuel 1:27
Praise be to GOD, who has not rejected my prayer or withheld his love from me!