When the time came I realized baby boys aren't so bad. They might not wear cute little tutu's, but they have a way of wrapping a mommy right around their dirty little fingers. They say cute things like "mommy, you're so pretty" and suddenly they can get away with murder. Or they just lay there and look cute, like this:
I'm blessed by the two (3) boys in my house. Merrick is already a great big brother to Jericho, giving him lots of kisses, making sure he's ok, feeding him Sonic tater tots...almost. (This was attempted in the hospital, but thankfully prevented)
Their deliveries might not have been tons of fun, (I still need to post the dramatic story of Jericho's appearance...wow.) but as soon as I saw both of them I knew I was cut out to be the mom to these two men. They were already a part of my heart, and I'd been given them for a reason. I'm pretty grateful for two (3) of my own personal superheros.
When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby,
she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. / John 16:21