Today he turned 1 month old.
1 month ago i remember holding him in my hands. The feeling of his fragility transcending through the cover he was wrapped in and my skin to my nerves. The simple act of opening his eyes were enough to throw me into the realm of ecstasy and his slightly abnormal (long) breathing sending butterflies in my stomach.
Generally I am afraid to hold a new born in my hands, afraid of hurting him in the process but this child was different. The fear gave way to excitement and excitement to elation while taking the nascent one in my palms. The almost-four-kilo-child seemed light as a feather.
Earlier in the day, when I received the call from the doctor that the son was born, I was on my way to the hospital and the drive seemed so long. The wait for last nine months had finally come to an end.
And all I could say once I held the little life in my hands was that the wait was worth every single moment of ir.