I couldn't come up with anything other than this:
That's me, looking at Max, when he was about a week old... we didn't know if he'd ever come home, if he'd have any long-term effects of his prematurity... I worried that we'd never "bond" because he had to spend the first 3 months of his life in that little plastic box AND I couldn't breastfeed. My DH and I were terrified that all of our hopes and dreams for this little boy that I was only able to carry for 28 weeks would never come true.
And this is what that tiny infant has become; a sweet, amazing, hilarious little boy who had no trouble bonding with me, who makes me laugh on a daily basis, who will, for no reason, walk up to me, throw his arms around my neck, plant 20 kisses on my face and announce "I love you SOOOO much!"
And all I can do is give thanks. Today and every day.
Happy Thanksgiving.
