This is Samuel. I grew him in my womb. I was throwing up for 22 weeks and spent months on bed rest to keep his sweet, vulnerable, growing body inside of me until he was ready to face the world.Then I carefully bathed him, clothed him, cloth diapered his tender skin. I lovingly nourish his body with the best God-designed food to help him grow plump and healthy.
I have held him in my arms as much as he wants, cuddling him, gazing into his big blue eyes, nuzzling his wet, drool filled neck with love.
I bring him to my bed at night so he is always warm and safe, and he can cuddle and eat when he wants to, no matter the comfort lost to me.
I give him a taste of my drinks, never complaining about the backwash he leaves, because he is learning and experimenting.
I take him for walks safely cradled in a sling. He can see the world and reach out and touch it, while still sheltered from harm. He reaches out and touches leaves and flowers and bark, and gently keep them from his mouth.
I love my happy son. My gift from God.
Samuel loves his daddy. He waves excitedly when he sees his daddy. He squeals in delight while playing with daddy.
I don't get waves. I get p00p. And spit up. Don't forget the spit up.
