Made in Richmond

Jackson is not a particularly snuggly kid, at least at this point. He already seems pretty independent – perfectly content to hang out on his own, more than able to settle himself down to sleep. Aside from the whole feeding and financing thing, he could probably take care of himself.

But then there was this evening.

Ross, Jackson, and I got home at about 5:15. I had picked up Ross on my way home from getting Jackson from his Thursday visit with his grandmother. As usual, Jackson was passed out in his car seat. I carefully picked him up and placed him in his crib so he could finish his late afternoon nap not crumpled up in a plastic chair.

And then apparently the world exploded.

That kid screamed. And screamed. And screamed. And then screamed some more. Of course I automatically thought he was hungry, but when I picked him up there was no nuzzling or rooting around – he wasn’t interested. I changed his diaper. He kept screaming. I checked his temperature. Perfectly normal. I brought Dad into the picture. He screamed harder.

I had no clue what to do. So I took him into our bedroom, turned all of the lights off, rested him on my belly, and rubbed his ears.

He was asleep in about 15 seconds.

And there it was. For the first time since he was born, I really felt like a mother. But not just any mother. Jackson’s mother.

We stayed that way for 45 minutes. Him breathing softly, in and out. Me still rubbing his ears and thanking God for putting this little man in my life.