The Boy, Himself

Yesterday was Roman's due date. Tomorrow he is two weeks old. Today I already cannot imagine our lives without him. What were we doing before he arrived? What funny noises did we giggle at or who's soft head did we stroke our cheeks against?

When I was 10 weeks pregnant, I dreamed about a boy born to me with a round face, glowing complexion, golden brown hair. He was so peaceful and smiled as soon as he arrived. It was such a euphoric dream~ an indescribable joy surrounded me nearly to an ache of sorts, and I woke up with the name of Romanos in my mind. This little one seemed to reveal himself to me that morning and I didn't want to wake up from his sweet face. It was then that I began to know him, if thats even possible. It is, I think. Most mamas would agree. And I let everyone know he was a boy before we found out officially. I've had inclinations with most of my pregnancies, only wrong about gender once, I think.

What has been such a gift with this boy is that his demeanor at this stage is just like my dream. Peaceful. Attentive. Tolerant. And smiles, though they be accidental and not what one would describe at the social smile yet, abound. Constant smiles. And I keep saying to Jeff, my mom, and everyone, it's just like my dream. This isn't answered with much acknowledgement of significance. No one says, oh wow, yea you dreamed all this, thats amazing. Rather. Its our sacred little secret. That we've known each other.

And these early days are not filled with only blissful, angelic moments. There are exhausting, sometimes painful, sometimes frustrating moments, but all bridged by interludes that can only be described like our dream~a joy that I don't want to wake up from. Perhaps he dreamed of me too. And so we rest within each other.

xoxo