I Am His

I remember the instant Sam was born, after he was cleaned and warmed up and wrapped tightly, I reached out my arms for my baby.

Time stood still. He was really here. A tiny baby boy.

He was mine.

That is my greatest moment as mother.

I think the second greatest moment as a mother happened yesterday, in Target, in the cereal aisle.

Sam was in the cart, and he started getting a little fussy. I pulled out his felt hammer. I searched for Sophie the giraffe. I was close to grabbing the puffs. 

I asked again, "what's wrong buddy," and that's when it happened.

He reached out his arms for his mommy.

I unbuckled him and pulled him out of the cart. He wrapped his arms tightly around my neck and held on. We stayed that way for the rest of our trip around the store, through the produce and the personal care items. 

Time stood still. He knew exactly what he wanted in that moment and he was telling it to the world.

I was his.

I may have cried a little.

Sam has "wanted" me before. He makes a sluggish movement toward me when people holding him ask "do you want your mommy?" He makes a tiny motion with his hand if he wants lifted out of his jumper or high chair.

But it's never been like this. So blatantly obvious that he wanted to be held, by me, his favorite momma in the whole world.

It took us a lot longer to navigate through Target yesterday, pushing a cart with one arm and carrying a heavy-for-his-age baby in the other. I may have almost hit two people and an end cap of Kleenex, but I could have walked around like that all day. 

Just me and Sam. 

We belong to each other.