Why would He do this to me?

“We love the things we love for what they are.”
― Robert Frost

I really should have put this picture at the beginning of my story.  This is Kekoa and me in the background.   Yes, I was about to cry when it was taken. The picture accurately emphasizes and portrays everything that is me. When I look at it I see someone who looks absolutely terrified of the reality that has just come out of her body.  Why God would choose to give someone like this a special needs child is beyond me.

I mean look at me.

I was a wreck and he was fine.

When we got home from the hospital my husband loaded the pictures from the delivery onto the computer.  He pulled up this one and burst out laughing.  "Look at your face! You look like you are convinced that the nurse is really a child predator and is about to run off with your baby." 

I came over and looked down at the computer screen.  Yep.  That is exactly what I was thinking.  "Don't laugh. I just love him so much."  I try to explain very near the brink of tears.  How can he not understand?  I mean this little person just came OUT OF MY BODY!  I made this little guy and he is perfect.  It all just became so real. When they're in your body it's just a faint idea.  Especially when it's your first.  Once they actually come out it's a whole new ball game.

I think I look the way I do here for a couple of reasons.

First of all, I was totally mortified by the whole child bearing experience.  The gush of body fluids, squishy stuff and baby from my body was beyond embarrassing.

How would my husband ever look at me the same? 

Second, I really hadn't given the whole idea of baby = with you the rest of your life, a sufficient amount of contemplation.  I just wanted a baby. But once I looked into his eyes and felt a kind of love that I had never experienced before, I knew that I was in trouble.  My heart felt like it was bursting with love and breaking with fear all at the same time and either way I looked at it I was in danger of literally loving this little guy to death.

Once the nurse placed him on my chest, cleaned him off, and then took him away to the warmer to wrap him up and snap this picture I was totally and completely smitten.

I also started feeling other things that I had never felt before.  A fierce protection of my little boy that was almost crushing when the nurse took him from my arms. 

In the picture I am looking at the nurse like "OMG you are totally going to break him. I do not trust you at all. Give him back. Give him back before I cry."

In what world does it make sense for Life to give this kind of mom a special needs child?  I couldn’t handle the thought of raising this little guy, who was completely normal. 

Can you imagine the picture of me after I found out that Oli was blind?

Or maybe this picture explains completely why I was given a special needs child...