He smiled today. Not an “I’m pooping and it feels really good” smile, and not one of those lopsided smirks immediately followed by a frown followed by the next twitch in a string of uncontrollable expressions, but a real honest to goodness interactive smile. I had him lifted up in front of me admiring how strong his neck is getting and I said “I love you SO much” and he beamed a gigantic open-mouthed glorious smile. I kissed his cheeks to test if it was really a smile for me. Sure enough, another glowing gorgeous grin. And my heart broke. In a good way. Just one more crack in a heart that’s swiftly becoming a bowlful of mush. There is just no room for hardness in a heart that loves a child this much.
But my heart is breaking for another not so good reason. It’s almost time to go back to work. My plan was to return when he’s eight weeks old. Somehow in the midst of these crazy sleepless schedule-less days and nights, he’s become five weeks old. I’ve never been the type to dream of being a stay at home mom. I never even dreamed of being a mom until the last couple years, and always assumed I’d still want to work. Wouldn’t I want a break? Wouldn’t it be boring staying home with a baby all day? I had no idea how satisfied I would be staring into the face of my newborn, especially a smiling one. No clue how tied my heartstrings would be to his every need. How could I possible leave this little guy with anyone else?
Sorting that all out…but for now I’m enjoying every moment I get to be with my beautiful baby boy.