So I will go in his room with a smile in the morning and sing him happy birthday. I will reminisce with Jared about those first few days in the hospital, in our own little bubble, before we knew what a huge responsibility we were taking on. At 7:19 tomorrow evening, I will remember the absolute amazement at his first tiny cries and the pride in myself for birthing a son for my husband. I will remember how carefully Jared handled him when he held him for the first time and how he was absolutely beaming in the first father/son picture. I will remember the looks on our moms' faces as they walked into the room and became grandmothers. I will remember aunts and uncles holding him for the first time and being surprised by how much they already loved him. And I will remember how he was screaming when the nurse first gave him to me, and as I took him he stopped crying and looked at me like he knew me and he loved me.
Then I will ask him for a kiss and he will open his mouth wide and come straight for my puckered lips. His little hand will grab my shirt as we walk to the kitchen for a sippy cup of milk, and I won't be able to believe how much I love this tiny little person.
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