Miraculous

My little boy rested next to me.
Quiet filled the room, a precious, rare occurrence.
I read a book as he stayed still,
Drifting peacefully in and out of sleep.

Time passed on and soon it was out more than in...
Little hands now reaching for something to grab,
Head twisting for something to watch,
Back arching to change the view,
Looking for something more interesting than a flat white ceiling.

I enjoyed the quiet, and my book,
And so I casually provided distractions:
Colorful toys laid all around him,
His own little rainbow arching over his head, from one side to the other.

My eyes and my mind drifted back to my book,
Hardly paying attention to the wonder beside me.
Yet a stray noise here or there caught my ear,
And I allowed my mind to come back to present,
Permitted my eyes to follow the source.

In the still and quiet of the room, I suddenly watched, amazed.
Only 11 weeks of life- so very new to the world-
And here was my precious little boy,
One who I hadn't planned on,
But who has changed my world so much, and for the better:

Seeing, Reaching, Grasping, Holding...

I dared not interrupt him in his work,
All seeming so purposeful and preordinated.
And so I watched silently,
Awed by his every careful, unsure movement.

He lifts his arm at the shoulder, noticing the presence of a toy.
It rolls a bit with his movement...
Then his head leans toward it, his cheek bumping into its side.
The toy shifts away again.
He reaches with his hand, tiny wrist twisting,
Fingers slowly opening, extending for something he expects to be there,
Caught between his arm and head.
Tiny fingers find the toy, brushing softly against the hard, bumpy surface.
His back arches, his head twists, and his opposite arm now reaches across his body.
Eyes spy the ball that only touch had previously discovered,
And his effort is doubled, his movements more sure.
The fingers opposite reach and curl, seeking for the surface of the toy,
Finding an edge here, but it slips away from him,
Trying again, searching for an edge.
Near-silent movements succeed:
He now firmly grasps a piece of the toy within his chubby fingers.

Gently, slowly, cautiously, he moves his hand toward his face,
Bringing the brightly colored toy with it.
He feels the textured surface against his cheek now,
His head turns slightly toward it, until he feels the toy against his tiny lips.
His mouth opens slowly, his tongue tentatively thrusting out to explore the toy,

Tasting, Feeling, Discovering, Understanding...

My mind leaps forward and backward simultaneously:
Here he will be, months from now:
Putting everything to his mouth eagerly,
Discovering that thousands of new things are within his reach,
Changing and growing daily, first a toddler, then a child, finally an adult.
Here he was, just weeks ago:
A newborn baby that had known only the safety inside his mother,
Small, fragile, vulnerable and new,
Suddenly discovering thousands of new sensations, never known before.

I watch his discoveries now, silently amazed and awed,
Reverenced,
By the miracle that he is.
Once only a spirit in Heaven, a stranger to my life,
Now a precious little child,
Thinking, Feeling, Growing, Changing, Being.
A miracle,
Right before my eyes.