Have you ever looked at your baby realized that you have always known their face? That their little nose and perfect lips and eyes looking up at you have always been familiar. That the time in-between your birth to the second you first held them was just time that you just forgot- not that you didn't know. And when they are finally born, your heart is a little more complete. A little more like it was before we came to earth. One more piece of the puzzle is finally there.
The other night, I was lying on the couch next to Jonah and I had this crazy feeling. A crazy amazing feeling that is one of those things that can barely be typed- and certainly never by me. But on that very same couch, I laid with Jonah in my tummy- and sometimes I would try to imagine what he looked like. I looked at his ultrasound pictures and tried to guess, but I didn't know. I couldn't imagine a baby that wasn't Jax that was mine. Jax was all I knew. And when Jonah was born, of course, I looked at him and he was mine. He belonged with me. Life without him would never be life enough again. Not even in that very first second. Such a mom cliche, I know. But mom cliche's are fair I think. Other cliches can be menders for a lack of wordiness, but mom cliche's are fine. We mom's have to use them because no letters or symbols or language in the entire world can make up a word perfect enough to decribe the heart-swelling, total contentment and completeness, nothing-could-ever-be-better-than-this feeling that a mom feels when she is holding her baby. Not to mention the protective, inadequate, worry feelings that go right along with it. So we just say, "I can't imagine life without them," and "They were meant to be mine," and hope someone knows what we mean- what we feel. What we will never in a million years ever be able to describe until we die and heaven gives us a new vocabulary with the sole purpose of that.
But I was looking at Jonah the other night thinking. Thinking and trying to remember not knowing his face- and I couldn't. I couldn't remember not knowing it. I honestly looked at him and thought to myself, Does he look like another baby I know? Did Jax look identical to him? Why do I feel like I have looked at him for so much longer than I have? And then I realized, because I have. Because I always have.