During the first few weeks of Colby’s life, I was aware numerous times of the differences between him and Ellianna.
He is alert… he shows interest…his body feels so soft and cuddly compared to the stiff muscles Ellie had. All these things not only made us realize just how sick Ellie had been, but how healthy our new little guy is. In spite of these obvious differences, my heart was holding out for one thing…
For each of the precious 135 days Ellianna was with us, we never saw her smile. We giggled, we cooed, we made silly faces, and we waited. Waited for a little smirk, a dimple, a grin… something that would show us she was happy inside and that her tender soul knew we loved her. We squinted at her, trying to convince ourselves we saw something that we didn’t, pretended that each little twitch surely must have been a smile. But the truth was, it never came.
When I looked at this sweet baby boy in my arms, I longed to know that he was in there; that buried beneath his shiny eyes and smooth cheeks, there was a spirit that recognized my face, read my joy, and could reflect that overflow of loving giddiness I have when I look at him. My heart needed to know that he could.
Day 84. Colby lay on my lap like he did every day, while I sang and cooed and told him how much I loved him. And there it was. His eyes crinkled, his forehead wrinkled, and his tiny lips stretched into perhaps the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.
I burst into tears. I laughed. I squealed. I fumbled for my phone to capture this moment in time. I have the proof… it is blurry and shaky and inexact because I was shaking… but I have it… his smile.
Every day since, he has flashed those gorgeous gums, crinkling into a beam of brilliance at my singing and cooing and silliness. And every day I drink it up, and look forward to a lifetime of these smiles.
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