Our first night home, I buried him close in my arms for three hours that night - something I never would’ve done with Jack. I smelled his baby hair and clasped each of his baby fingers. The tiny pit pat rhythm of his breath on my skin awakening my consciousness to the reality of this life I held. Completely surrendered, his heartbeat against mine. I now have the perspective I didn’t have with Jack — it goes so fast. Everyone tells you that, and they're right. Even in the challenge, this isn’t forever. Everything is a phase and everything passes. The seemingly long sleepless nights and the crying and the frustrating nap protests... they all pass. What I have here is a newborn, who will grow into a toddler, who will continue to grow into a little boy, who will become a man. In only a few short months, holding him all night won’t be possible. So here I am, bleary-eyed, tired, straining to make it to morning, but with a heart so full of gratitude it brings me to tears. I will forever remember these nights; him and me, snuggled close, and that full beautiful trust of a baby with his Momma. 

"I'm always here for you," I whisper. And I mean it. I always will.