In the Glow of Love

Today I was changing Matthew after our morning walk and feeding, and he gave me a look. It was a look that was almost as if he had something to say. I stopped what I was doing, leaned forward, started talking to him and asking him for my smile. If I've asked him once I've asked him a dozen times a day, "Where's my smile?" His dad seems to be better at extracting it than I, so far. But today, I saw my opening. I asked for it, and suddenly, his whole face relaxed, his eyes brightened, and the corners of his mouth pulled back into a grin. A contented, immaculate grin. I went crazy and thanked him and realized I was crying before I could even think about it.

He has brought about such a foundational shift into my life; a giant pivot towards the sun. Whether he's fussy in the backseat and I have to tell him we're almost home, or he's nuzzled to my breast with his hand folded alongside his mouth, I still feel a mortal connection to him. All the cliches about motherhood have proven not only prophetic, but vastly understated.

I just love him so much, and love being his mother, and am so lucky to have him. I will keep telling him every day.