Monday, March 21, 2011

Love.

Morning.

I hear babbling from across the hall. I quietly enter, and even in the dark, I feel her giant blue eyes searching for me. I turn on the light, and there it is.

The smile that melts my heart.

A smile so big that her pink binky comes flying right out of her mouth. Her chubby little hands reach up to grab the crib rails. She’s surrounded by her favorite snuggly blanket given to her by her sister while she was still in the NICU, her first teddy bear given to her by her daddy, Glo Worm, Elmo, and a couple of her favorite babies.  She stands, and gingerly lets go of the rail to reach her arms out to me.

I lift her up and she snuggles her head perfectly in the crook of my neck. I feel her chubby little arms and legs wrap around me, feel the warmth of her body through her soft cotton jammies after a restful night’s sleep.

In that moment, I am completely and wholly consumed with love. An emotion so overwhelming, I feel it with every single fiber of my being. In that moment, all I know is peace. In that moment, I am certain there is a God. Everything is right with the world.

This love is so overpowering, so otherworldly, and my only wish is to share it.

It is then I think about that couple a half a country away, almost halfway through their pregnancy. A tiny little belly forming, movements just becoming noticeable. Their own little miraculous bundle of joy. Of love.

And I realize I HAVE shared it.