Taking Time

Every time we take Brecken somewhere someone asks how old he is.  I immediately tell them how many days old he is.  They usually get a sweet look on their face as they coo and tilt their head, I suppose, hoping I'll lift the carseat cover, which I rarely do.

Today he is two weeks old.  Soon I won't count how old he is by days.  It will turn into weeks, which will turn into months.  It is so bittersweet.  He's such a little sack of flour right now that just melts into my body when I hold him.  He sleeps pretty much constantly which makes him the easiest baby I've ever seen.  He didn't cry a single time yesterday.  I suppose that is because I'm right there whenever he needs something, but still, not a peep?!

He's my little angel.  When someone visits I can't help but get close to the person holding him and also stroke his hair.  Yesterday we visited Laura and she and I were practically on top of each other on her couch both soaking in the baby love.  I started to say how much I love him and got choked up.  Because that's how much I love him.  My love for him is so deep it's difficult to put into words.

I've been trying to live in the moment with him.  Taking time each day to stare into his eyes and think about nothing but him.  Taking time to get comfortable before I start nursing him so he and I can stay there as long as needed.  Taking time holding his body close while he sleeps and watching his lips and eyes move ever so gently.  Taking time to grab my phone and photograph him sleeping over and over and over.