dark and stillness.

I awake to little foot steps down the hall and into my room.

I can feel his breath on my face as he leans in to be sure I am just  where I am supposed to be.

He climbs up and into my bed, under the covers and as close to me as possible.

I turn around to face him and wrap my arms around his small body, rubbing his back.

He nuzzles his face into my neck and quickly goes back to sleep.

…

This little boy is such a gift to us.

I sometimes think about my life before he was here, my life before I became a special needs mom.

Everything was so simple then, and everything seemed so easy and so… small.

I didn’t think so at the time, oh no, I complained and ranted about every little thing, I’m sure. But now, looking back, it was as if I were living in the dark, completely oblivious to the real world around me.

There is an awareness now that wasn’t there before, apathy that wasn’t there before, consideration that never existed in my thoughts or actions.

I feel so much, so, so, much more than I did before…I’m almost ashamed at my shallowness before ben came into my life.

…

Lying in my bed, snuggling with my baby boy, feeling his puppy breath on my face, his hands laced in mine, I cannot help but think of my little one across the globe.

There are thousands and thousands just like him.

I feel their yearning.

I feel their fear.

I feel their helplessness.

It knocks me down like a tall wave in a rumbling ocean.

…

I close my eyes and listen to ben’s breath.

I inhale the smell of his hair and rub his back.

He sighs in his sleep, and I smile to myself.

And there, in the stillness of the night and the darkness of my room, I give thanks.