Since the moment my baby was born (well, after the moment where I hollered, “I did it! I DID IIIIIIIIT!”), I have been surrounding him, swaddling him with love.
A thousand, a million times a day I tell him that I love him. I whisper, I coo, I laugh, I tease.
I love you, baby boy!
I love you soooo much.
Mommy loooooves you.
I love my fat little burrito, yes I do.
Ooooh! Mommy loves you so much, yes she does.
You’re my little baby and IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!
Almost equal time is spent soothing, “There, there, Mommy’s here.”
Whether he’s squalling from colic or gazing up at me with those lovey dovey baby eyes, I pour my love over him. I hope it will soak into the very core of his being, that no matter where life takes him, there will always be my love as a part of who he is.
I got to thinking that God, like a mother, is always pouring love out on me. Even when I can’t hear it over my own squalling and squawking, it’s always there, a part of me. There are those moments when I truly need to be comforted – There, there, I’m here.
And if I remember to listen, I’ll hear, just like my baby hears “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou….“