My Michael

Whoa! No post since June 8th? What does that MEAN? No joy since June 8th???? Not exactly. But it has been a chaotic, crazy time. Baseball consumed our lives all the way through July 5th and I DO plan to write about that experience. But this post is about today. My joy was palpable very early this morning. No! Twisted readers! Not wake-up sex!

No, this joy started on October 14, 1999 and has continued to be my endless supply for the last 10.5 years. His name is Michael. My oldest son is truly an angel from heaven. This morning I was reminded of a simpler time, a joyful period of my life, early in his little life.

Michael was a longgggg time in coming. After 3 years, several mis-carriages and a little help from Yale Infertility, he finally arrived in mid - October, 1999. Talk about JOY? But not without reflux! Michael cried almost incessantly until he was 15 months old! I lived in a corner of our living room couch, endlessly trying to sooth my angelchild. (Watching Rosie obsessively!)

But, I was in love and I would have walked through fire to make his pain go away. In comforting my angel, I located the softest, most joyful part of his body - the back of his beautiful neck. I kissed the back of his neck a thousand times a day. It was my escape into my child. When my lips touched the back of his neck, just under his hairline, I was transported into, for lack of a better word, grace. It was a joy I could catch repeatedly, over and over.

This morning, after lying awake for hours - since 3am, at least - I got up, made coffee and sat at my computer. I heard him before I saw him. I always know his steps down the stairs in the morning. It's innate. I am so bonded to him. Every morning he comes to me and throws his arms around me and buries his head in my thighs (at 2), my belly (at 4), my chest (at 7) and now my shoulder at 10. And this morning - he climbed up into my lap, curled into a ball, laid his head on my shoulder and that's where he stayed. My lips touched the back of his neck and I was once again transported into that place of joy.













































And

Michael did feel the need to remind me that he wasn't 1.5 months old anymore, but 10.5 years old. Note his attempt to make bunny ears for this last picture! It makes no matter. My baby is still my baby...and he can still bring me the greatest joy.



THIS is how I know there is a God.