Everywhere we go, my Huckleberry is the man of the day.
Women stop dead in their tracks at the grocery store to say, their hands over their hearts, "Oh!"
Pediatricians walk into exam rooms with vaccines in their needles and gasp, "That face!"
Old men wink at him on the sidewalks, and say to me, "Keep having babies. You're obviously good at it."
Fancy Jewish ladies in fur coats proclaim him "The best baby I have ever seen in my life!"
Pediatricians walk into exam rooms with vaccines in their needles and gasp, "That face!"
Old men wink at him on the sidewalks, and say to me, "Keep having babies. You're obviously good at it."
Fancy Jewish ladies in fur coats proclaim him "The best baby I have ever seen in my life!"
Huck is a like drug. One hit of his smile, one dose of his squeals (with his fat body tensing up in complete excitement), and you're immediately addicted to babies for life. I want a million more Huckleberries. One after another after another after another. I'm afraid that I won't be able to go a minute without a Huckleberry in my arms ever, ever again.
And do I sometimes get lost? Just the mom behind the adorable baby? "Don't mind me, I just birthed him, that's all."
Um, yes. But happily so. Everywhere we go, I get to see faces light up, bad moods melt, and grizzled New Yorkers turn to a puddle of goo thanks to this silly little baby. What could be better than that?
Sometimes I think I can look into my Huckleberry's eyes and see straight though to heaven.
I get a lot of emails from readers who are struggling with infertility. I want you to know how much your trust means to me, and how much I pray and hope along with you. And I also want you to know: it is worth it. Huck is worth every negative pregnancy test, and every depressing moment. Every single second.
Yours will be, too. I promise.
I just love that I can share him with you, and with strangers on the street, and with my fellow grocery shoppers at the Trader Joe's.
He's my miracle, but I like to think he is also yours.
I hope that when you see him, you can see heaven, too.
and now this infertile myrtle is crying.. thanks for sharing your blessings Nat
ReplyDeletelove your words! and your baby! i work with children and have come across so real cuties in my time, like real cute- the ones who make you melt when u catch a glance and the ones who make your crappy day 1000 times better with a cuddle, reading you write about ur bubby makes me think about all those little people who have brightened my life just by being.
ReplyDeletethanks
Huckleberries are my favorite!
ReplyDeletethumbs up. way up!
ReplyDeleteOhh my.
ReplyDeleteHUCK is getting SO big!
So cute.
XOXO
Stephanie&Such
This was so very touching, thank you for sharing. It's really incredible the amount of love one can have for a single human being.
ReplyDeleteNat, thank you so much for this post. As a fellow infertile myrtle (three years next month), this is JUST want I needed to hear tonight. Your Huck is absolutely adorable <3 Thank you!
ReplyDeleteas a grizzled new yorker who's day yesterday was the pits, i'm pretty sure if i ran into this little bundle of joy it would have helped immensely. he is definitely something else - thanks for making such cute babies!
ReplyDeletethis is such a sweet post. i feel the same way about my baby. it's a miracle to watch them grow and to watch their innocence and beauty affect those around them, without their even trying. thanks :)
ReplyDeleteA lovely post - your little Huck does seem like a special one. My heart aches a little as my husband and I try for our own squishy baby. Seeing pictures of your squishy little dude makes me laugh every time!
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing post. Soooo adorable and I just love the way you worded everything. So beautiful. Loves that cute little baby face:)
ReplyDeletepics-o-andrea
There's something about an itty, bitty baby in a shopping cart that makes even the stoniest of hearts melt!
ReplyDeleteEvery baby is a blessing; it's very sad that not every baby has a mother who loves and appreciates their miracle as much as you and your followers.
My baby is 9 months old and I keep wondering when I will stop being amazed by her and proud of all her achievements. After 2 years of trying to make her, she is my miracle and every day I feel beyond blessed and confounded that she is ours. My little brain still struggles to fathom how we are able to produce these little, living and breathing bundles of wonder!
This was a especially lovely post.
ReplyDeleteThis was lovely. I really enjoy your blog.
ReplyDeleteLOVELY, you brought this Mama to tears! Also, can you tell me about those moccasins? I die for them.
ReplyDeleteI JUST put my makeup on, YOOOOU.
ReplyDeleteOh how I remember feeling that way with my pork loin, who is now three. Now everyone oos and awws over little miss max. We used clomid with both of our babies. What worked for you??
ReplyDeleteThat was not cheesy, that was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful and perfect, just like Huckleberry.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely BEAUTIFUL!! Your blog post AND your Huckleberry man. I pray for all those awaiting the same miracle!
ReplyDeleteEileen
this gave me chills. also, my friends and i have been religiously following your breastfeeding adventures and my mom thinks it means i am trying to get pre-maritally pregnant. not true. i just like your posts, ok?
ReplyDeleteAmen. That is exactly how I feel about my much longed for miracle baby.
ReplyDeleteSigh.
ReplyDeleteOh, what a lovely post! I'm new to your blog - my sweet, supportive, and endlessly optimistic sister sent me this particular post today, which caught me right in the middle of a "Will I EVER be a mother?" moment of moopiness (her timing is very good, that sister). My heart swelled a bit reading your sweet words of love for your son. Thank you for making me smile. Every negative pregnancy test will be worth it - a new mantra for me, perhaps? And yes, your Huck sure is a beautiful boy!
ReplyDelete:-D
ReplyDelete