This Friday, Beau and I sit in the living room, listening to the soft swish-swish-swish of the mobile swing that currently has our newborn baby in a sleepy trance. Every time we get up, we ask each other what the other needs, or do it without asking. A refill of water. A remote we can't reach. A cell phone. Things that a week ago, we'd get ourselves without thinking for a second about the other. We've already developed a new kind of relationship, a new kind of support system that leans instead of leads. It's just one of the pretty cool things that's happened to us since last Friday night...
I'm not ready to write the full on details of Tuesday, October 12, 2010, the day the Cruz Bennett entered our lives. It was a day that is going to take at least a week to sink in. I've been journaling since about the details and moments that I cannot let myself forget and hope to write a birth story, so stay tuned. In the meantime...
My life has changed. It's Friday night. On a typical Friday night in the past, Beau and I might be headed to see friends and pour pitchers at Mulligans, or stay in and crack open a bottle of wine and partake in a two-hour cooking spree and long, drawn out meal at the table, a meal with candles, good conversation, googly eyes, and placemats. Yes, placemats.
Tonight, I am having my first glass of wine. Wine shared with an amazing meal delivered by amazing friends. Wine accompanied with a spit-up stained tank top, a less-than-five minute makeup job, and a hospital bracelet still attached to my wrist (Beau and Cruz have not removed theirs either). I danced around the house with my breasts exposed because accomplishment now does not happen in the number of items I cross off a 'to-do' list, but in the fact that my milk came in today without me going hormonally crazy. The 'nesting' that occurred before Cruz has now turned into a shove-it-here, hide-it-there technique. Beau laughed about the lack of modesty pregancy, labor, and delivery have given me, as I breast-fed in front of the picture window every time today. Yes, life has changed, but at the same time, I've never known this kind of happiness before. This level of contentment, of peace, of love. I'm enjoyin' this new skin of mine. And speaking of skin...
I thank Jesus for everything that is Cruz.
For the way his face looks when I feed him...his little scrunched up nose and focused eyes, the complete and utter trance my momma juice puts him into, and the way he snuggles up, all limp and bundled into my chest afterwards.
For his little bare chest, the way it moves up-and-down, up-and-down, up-and-down as he breathes, and the soft little coo he makes at the end of a deep breath as he falls into a peaceful sleep.
For the way he smells after a bath. My nose is constantly affixiated to the top of his head!
For the way he snuggles up on his daddy's chest and the lump that forms in my throat as I watch.
For the sense of accomplishment I feel after one more changed diaper.
For the way his eyes perk up as he hears his momma's voice.
For the way his hair hangs over the back of his neck, gently sweeping across the backs of his sleepers.
For the way his cheek feels against mine when I kiss him all the time.
For his sparkly blue eyes that look just like my husband's. Check that, everything Cruz looks like my husband.
For the way he looks right before he's about to cry. His entire face gets into it, from the wrinkles that appear on his forehead, to his scrunched up nose, defined eyebrow bones, and dimple in his chin.