Jami Loves the Boy

This morning I had one of those rare moments where I am by myself listening to Eddie interacting with the Husband. It's beyond sweet - the two men I love the most. The Husband was helping Eddie get dressed,which Eddie prefers to do himself, so helping him consists of getting his diaper on and fastening any snaps, zippers, buttons, etc. Oh, and you can chose his onesie. Because onesies are the tighty-whities of the baby world, and he doesn't care about that. But everything else, you'd better not try to even suggest what you think he should wear. You'll be wrong. Even if you're just pointing out that his pants are on backward and that maybe orange pants and bright blue shirt aren't the best match. You're wrong. But I was enjoying listening to them chatting. Eddie eventually realized I wasn't there and came to find me. He appeared in the doorway of my bedroom in his little white socks and onesie. So cute it makes puppies look like trolls. I had actually thought for a bit about trying to describe the sight in detail, but I realized that even if I posted a picture, which I'll have to do once I re-install the software, it's not the same. Before we got Eddie home, a friend of mine mentioned that he and his wife had discussed adopting, but they weren't sure that they would be able to love an adopted child as much as they loved their bio kid (which they couldn't have any more of). [this sounds like I'm changing the subject,but stick with me, I'm not, really.] I didn't understand that at all until we had Eddie. Because I remember, especially the first month that we were home, thinking - knowing- that not only could no one love this child as much as I do, but that I could not possibly have loved him this much if he'd come out of my body. I mean, come on, if he'd been kicking me, grossly distending my abdomen, and finally making his hideous escape through a passage normally not sized for human passage, I'd be a little resentful (I thought). I wouldn't think he'd be as perfect as this baby is. In fact, I sort of thought that while other people probably love their babies, no one in the history of humanity had ever loved anyone as much as I love Eddie. So when I see him in his little white onesie and think how nice the white looks against his lovely tanned skin and how sweet he looks, it's probably colored a little by love. Or when I let him run around nekkid (which I probably do too much) because it's so amazing to see his perfectly portioned, unmarred body, it might just be that I'm influenced by how much I love him. And when I think it might be even cuter when he's dressed in "little man" style complete with tie, maybe my feelings influence it. Or when my heart melts to see him in fuzzy footie pj's, maybe it's just me. And lastly, I think, how can anyone who has felt this not believe in a loving God? You can't tell me that an accident of nature could create this overwhelming love. Hormones and chemicals and biology can't explain the bond and the adoration between us. Unthinking, unfeeling nature simply can not be responsible for this supernatural emotion. And that's all I have to say about that.