There is the moment that you first hold you baby. You heart is bursting with love, pride, and exhaustion. And your love begins to grow. Your baby rolls over for the first time, and it's as if he just won the gold medal. Your love grows. Hearing him say his first word, even when their first word isn't "mommy", your love grows. (After the 50th word, it wouldn't be so bad to hear "mommy")
He falls, and breaks his leg. You spend the next 5 weeks by his side all day long. You love and determination to make it ok, get him through it. And your love grows. You watch them play, hear the sing, hold them as they cry, and your love grows. We bake cookies together, go for bike rides together, and build sand castles together, and your love grows.
When you least expect it, your love grows. In the middle of the night you run to his room to find him ready to throw up. With no time, and no options you offer your hands. Before you know it, your hands are full of vomit. The only thing you think of, "is he ok?" Your love grows and you are strapping him into his boosters seat and putting a bib on. He starts throwing up, and at the same time his brother starts throwing up. It is vomiting in surround sound. All though your head is full of many thoughts, you focus on, "help them, make them ok." Yes, even when you least expect it, your love grows.
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