The change

Took O out of his Moses basket, fed him, brought him into bed, where he and I fell asleep... with his hand on my face.

Talking with Owen.

Feeding my little buddy.

Hittin' the beach together.

He is so handsome.

I can barely describe in words what I feel when I think of God's goodness to us through Owen. All I can think, as I choke back tears, is that my life will never be the same.

I can't imagine my life without precious, long-awaited Owen.

Long before children were in the picture for us, and even when there was the hope of Owen, I was told by various people how my life would change. I have found there are two main, yet polar opposite, viewpoints.

First, there is the view that babies change your life, and are kind of an interruption and an inconvenience. Many views are that your lives change forever, your relationship with your spouse goes downhill, your independent life is non-existent and you live for this child. They say, "Kiss any sort of adventure or travel or fun goodbye." It's a very sad and empty way to see children, and motherhood and parenthood.

The other viewpoint I am surrounded by with my friends. They all share much of the same joy, the delight in the fact that life has changed, but for the better. Life becomes more full. Today, I was going to make it home, or so I thought, by noon, and then feed Owen at home after having dropped off Cheston in Simi to do Summer School teaching. Owen was hungry and he wouldn't wait! So, I pulled over at Starbucks in Simi, made a bottle, climbed in the backseat, held my boy and fed him. He ate for like 40 minutes. I didn't leave there until almost an hour later. I can't describe to you how much that delighted me. I can't tell you how many times I would go to see Cheston in Simi, or hit up the mall, and then head straight home. I'd stop if I wanted to, or wait to go to the bathroom till I got home. It was a very one-dimensional life, kind of missing something. Today, I got to stop and tend to Owen's needs, and nothing was pressing and he was the priority. I don't know if my description is adequate, but I will put it simply: stopping to feed my son in the parking lot of Starbucks is ten times more fulfilling than hitting up every store by myself in Simi Valley Town Center. And that is a huge statement, because you know I love shopping.

I love my son. I love motherhood. I love that it makes me the better woman who I want to be. I love that he makes me want to wear more dresses and style my hair. I love that I get to pack up the car when I go somewhere. I love picking out outfits every day for him. I love the privilege of washing his clothes. I love how he smells. I love that I learn something new every day. I love that I notice that Owen's eyelashes are growing longer. I love that his eyebrows are getting thicker and darker. I love that smile after he finishes a bottle. I love his dimples, one much deeper than the other. I love how I know to hold him to calm him. I love when I let him lay on my chest/tummy, how he loves to nuzzle his head. I love that he sweats. I love that when I kiss him, he opens his mouth. I love that when Chet kisses him, he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue from the whiskers of Chet's mustache. I love that he sleeps with his hands by his head (when he's not swaddled). I love that he watches me intently when he's wide awake. I love that he turns at the sound of our voices. I love that he has the cutest little legs you have ever seen. I love that he sits in Daddy's lap while Daddy tells him the creation account. I love that we sing hymns to him. I love that we read him a Psalm every day. I love that Chet is already doing the children's catechism with him. I love that he loves to lay like a football in Cheston's arms. I love that he curls up in a ball when I have to change his diaper. I love that he pees everywhere when I change his diaper. (It's funny, c'mon, you gotta laugh at that!) I love that we didn't get what we wanted immediately years ago. I love that God wanted us to wait. HE WAS WORTH THE WAIT.