Three Month Thoughts

Here he is, our sweet boy, engaging in one of his favorite activities: lounging with Dad.
K. had his three month "birthday" last week, and I feel like we've come so far. He feels more like a "real baby" and less like an evicted fetus. He smiles, babbles, and has a mellow, cheery demeanor - most of the time. I love him like the cliche - every day I think I can't love him more and every day I do.
Three months is a particularly poignant anniversary because it really marks a year that K. has been a part of my life. If I am correct, (and I hope this is not TMI), K. was conceived on an especially lovely spring day in Los Angeles. Derek and I took the bus downtown, ate pupusas at Grand Central Market, walked over to Chinatown, and wandered home. Later that day we went to a Dodgers game, also walking distance from our house. And somewhere in there we managed to conceive K. The next weekend, convinced that I was not pregnant, I got all grumpy and ranted and raved at Derek about how we'd waited too long to try. The next day our car was stolen. Two days later we were somewhere in South LA trying to retrieve our stolen car from a towing company, then I was in Family Court (for my job), and feeling so ill through out all of it that I called in sick after the court appearance. And two days after that, stumbling out of bed to a positive pregnancy test. The excitement, then the grinding nausea. The lovely second trimester: driving cross country, visiting Brooklyn. Then, he became an extremely heavy mass dragging my whole belly down. He kicked and flipped and we could count his toes through my skin. Then, the birth. The few weeks, completely huddled into ourselves - this tiny, needy mass of life that I had no idea how to cope with. I thought my nipples might burn up and fall off from the breastfeeding - it was like he was always coming at me, hungry little mouth gaping open, eager eyes.
Now, he's settled, we are settled. And it is wonderful.