Seven Weeks

This morning, while I was making coffee with Theo in my arms (because putting him down results in immediate screaming), he looked up at me and smiled. Not gas. Not a reflex. A real, honest-to-god social smile.

Seven Weeks

I know I did this with Sophie four years ago. I know the timeline, I know what to expect, I know it’s coming. But somehow it still caught me completely off guard. One minute I’m the walking dead in yesterday’s nursing tank, and the next minute this tiny person is telling me he recognizes me, he knows I’m his mama, and he’s happy about it.

I may have cried. Marcus may have come running because I was making weird noises. Sophie may have asked why mommy was being dramatic again. Worth it.

Seven weeks of sleepless nights and endless feeding sessions, and this one moment makes it all make sense. This is why we do it. This is why we keep going when we’re running on three hours of sleep and our third cup of coffee before 9 AM. For this exact moment when your baby looks at you and smiles like you hung the moon.