Well, it hit me again. This desperate wave of grief that Bright isn't with me (haven't written about the first wave yet--it's in the travel journal). It's like I'm going through my day and everything is fine but something...I don't even know what...takes away the sheild of emotional protection I've put up for myself and I so deeply feel how much I love our son. It's not the kind of love you have for a child referred to you that you haven't met (THAT is real love too, by the way!). It's that different kind of love you have once your heart has been interwoven in person with the child who you now know and understand.
I miss his laugh. I miss his belly. I miss picking little peices of lint out of his hair. I miss his gap-toothed smile and slobbery kisses. I miss his fat feet and too-small-for-his-age hands. I miss lotioning the dry patch of skin on his shoulder and the way he screams every night when I bath him. I miss him kicking me in the middle of the night. I miss him snuggling into my bosom and caressing my chest as he falls asleep. I miss him. I miss him.