of blocks and babies

These last months I’ve watched my baby grow up in pictures.   But now, suddenly, he’s three dimensional.     I let my fingers trace his head, his fingers, his feet and am amazed at how I can see every part of him at once, no trying guess what is happening outside of the picture.  I know.  He’s here.  He’s real.  He’s my son.     As for his dimples, they simply slay me. I had no idea he had them (they hadn’t []

words fail me

Today I met my son. And there are no words to describe it. Maybe later. Maybe once my heart gets used to being in one piece again.