You are here, my child.  You are here in my arms.

I study your face;  the creases on your chubby little arms, legs…  I listen to your breaths…captivated by the rise and fall of your chest…  I watch you watching this new world around you…  each day your eyes –  transfixed at the sounds, smells, and sights of this new home –  remain open for a longer amount of time…  turning your head to me each time I speak, each time I sing…

Ah, you are here, and I am mesmerized by the creation of you, by the journey of your development from a tiny soul inside me, to a squirming, cartwheeling babe in my womb, to a babe in my arms.

You are now in my arms.

I will never forget that moment.  That indescribable moment you left my womb – babe once inside my taut-stetched-to-its-limit-belly to child wailing in a dimly lit room as I gazed upon you in wonder… that physical emptiness inside me knowing we were no longer two in one. That moment when the weight of carrying you was complete and you were in this world, beside me, no longer within me… oh, child…

You are here.

You are here with me, smiling, cooing, experimenting with your voice, laughing even, already.  Your eyes sparkle and shine and you are so aware.  You look at me intently, eyes fixed on mine.  You are here and as each day passes by, you change and grow and develop so quickly…  too quickly…  how can I stop the time?  If just for a second?  And I hold you close and try to capture these fleeting moments in my mind, scrabbling to record details with my pen or my camera.  I wish I could record it all.

You are here and my heart is full of wonder at the miracle of it all.