Starstruck

My chest felt like a race horses galloping to the finish. It is a little after midnight and I can’t wait for the nurse to bring Hunter back into the room. Shane snores like a broken buzz saw on the pull out couch. I, on the other hand, can’t sleep. I anticipate Hunter’s return from the nursery. The nurse finally parks his cart next to my bed. His closed eyelids flutter in dreams. Peaceful. Tears stream down my face. I wonder what he dreams about or does he dream at all? I find it difficult to breath. Effortlessly, I am helpless by his charm.

In a whip and a snap, I was a mother. Heck, it was a mind trip to consider myself a mother. I was having one of those moments. You know one of those pathetically uncontrollable sobby sappy moments. I was highly unqualified and unprepared for this powerfully catastrophic connection. As the television buzz with Law and Order, I am emotionally disordered in awe. I am inspired. I am in love. My eyes explore his gentle existence, his gentle fragile being a mesh of both Shane and me. His chest rise and fall with each inhale. His hands smooth tiny. The stillness of his black hair and his perfectly arched eyebrows, he is adorable. He softly purses his pouty lips, triggering those magical dimples. He is sweetness fortified with heaven and honey butter. Romantic. His presence brings me to my knees. Like magic he brings light to the dark corners of my soul. He softens the jagged edges that life has hardened. I am humble in his existence. He brings rhyme, song, chorus to my life.

This is Shellie trying to get a grip, instead I am a blabbering blub of sap back to you Bob at the studio.