My sons. My life. My heartbeat.
Where there was one, now there are two. One of you is all sunshine and light, silliness and laughter. The other is all seriousness, storms raging just beneath the surface, ready to erupt with a moment’s notice. So different. Night and day. But brothers, nonetheless.
Your similarities are visible: button nose, sweetest smiles, golden-haired and eyes of blue. There is no denying you are related.
My Gorgeous Boy and my Little Butterbean. You own my heart.
Life has been a bit chaotic since bringing Butterbean home. His start in life wasn’t the easiest, and we’ve struggled with a gamot of health issues. But finally, finally, we seem to be finding balance.
Sweet boy. Your cries peal through an otherwise quiet afternoon, and as I bounce and rock and pat your back, bringing you no relief from this thing they call “colic,” I wonder if you know how hard we try. To soothe, to calm. To love you through it. We hear you, baby boy. We hear your pain and discomfort. Your Daddy and I feel it in our own souls each time you cry.
Even your Big Brother does his part, by bringing me dropped pacifiers, or a swaddle blanket left forgotten on the floor. He pats your back and strokes your head and asks for a “fist bump,” all to make you smile.
And oh, when you smile…
… it’s as if the clouds part and the most vibrant rainbow pours through.
You love the feel of sunshine and the breeze on your face. You love to bounce and walk, to take in the world around you (even though you only see in colors and shapes and shadows, just now.) You hold your head up like a champ, dark blue eyes soaking it all in, a look of deep concentration on your face. You’ll be a great scholar, one day. All that deep thought will be put to good use, to better this world we all live in.
You require constant reassurance — and honestly, Butterbean, so do I — that your world is ok, that you are safe and warm and loved, that you haven’t been forgotten. You like to be tucked just under my chin, your arms folded beneath you as a pillow, and when you finally nestle in and relax, you get your best rest there, laying next to my heart.
It’s where you’ve always been, even before I knew you existed.
My family. My boys.
“Clann mo chroì.”
Sons of my heart.