And I cried.
The house is so quiet without him, and the silence is eerie. During the night, no one climbs into my bed declaring "I snuggle mommy now." The almost constant giggling that fills our home during the day echoes in my heart instead of the living room.
So I cry. Even though he'll be back in a few days and all will be normal again, I cry.
I blame my tears on the post-pregnancy hormones. But really, I know I'm crying simply because my first baby cannot stay nestled in my arms forever.
He's stretching his wings, and he's venturing out of the nest. Problem is, no matter how grown he looks, he never could venture out of my heart.
It dawns on me that while I'm crying, I should be soaking up this time with my new little guy because before too long, he, too, will be asserting his independence, declaring he is spending the weekend with Grandma Puppy.
So I take pictures of our new babe to help archive this time in my mind.
I snuggle him, while praying for time to slow.
Oh, growing pains. I think they are most severe for the mommy.