remembering the first week of parks james

parks monaco was born a gentle soul. it was one of the first things i noticed about him when they put him on my chest for the first time. he felt so exquistedly tender; so very calm. when i look back at the first week with parks there are so many parts that i want to wrap up and store away safely and securely in my memory vault. his skin was so soft, his hair so fluffy, and his eyes were so dark. one look at his face and i was completely smitten. my lifelong dream of becoming a mother had come true. when he was placed on my chest and instantly stopped crying, he looked up at me and i suddenly hushed {i will never forget the quiet peacefulness of the recovery room in those early morning hours}. i hushed and i listened and i somberly nodded my head at him. it was in that moment that i knew what i wanted my children to remember about me above all else, was that i heard them. this would hopefully be my legacy.

i looked up at the moon and the stars and i thanked everyone up there {esp. my tender God} for helping me through my delivery. i hope to share it soon but it was long and difficult and absolutely beautiful at the same time.

the beginning of parks james felt like the most extraordinary dream you can imagine. think of all of your favorites things and wrap them up into one scene. when i was holding him, nothing else seemed to matter. my recovery pain was so intense- yet i felt numb at the same time. i would stare at his face and time would drip so slowly, yet so quickly. the days seemed to rush by and i wanted to take in every moment. i remember sweating {so much sweating} and shushing and swaying a lot. the first two nights were so hard {he was so hungry and upset- it breaks my heart every time i think about those initial nights} yet a patience that i didn’t even know i had would come over my body. i craved fruit and water – oh my. i was so thirsty all the time. my mom and his daddy would hold him from time to time, but i would miss him. they were so good about allowing me to rest, recover, and cuddle my precious baby boy, my son. i wanted to take everything in that first week. i wanted to take a million photos and give a million kisses.  we enjoyed his first snow, sang country songs {george strait is still his favorite}, watched downton abbey, took naps together, dressed him up for the first time in his cute itty bitty outfits, and most of all, we took in lots of quiet moments- which i will remember always. 

every evening around ten the first week, a strange sadness would set in that another day with parks was coming to an end. i wanted to savor and remember and was well aware that this experience would never occur again. i hope to have more babies {God willing} but i knew that no matter how many babies were to come, there would never be a first one again. there was something so special about being a first time mom. so i tried so hard that week to bottle up every single feeding, diaper change, sponge bath, snuggle, and gaze. i gazed and gazed and gazed. for the first time, i wasn’t just myself~ i was responsible for that thoughtful little face staring back at me. when i looked in the mirror, a mom looked back at me. the one title in life i had always yearned for…  so throughout that week, i would nod and be present when he was trying to tell me something and i would dream about our future life together.