Last night around 2:00 a.m. I woke up hearing Jackson cough a kind of gaggy little cough. I was just about to get up and check on him when David, beside me in the bed, jumped up faster than I have ever seen him move and bolted to the nursery, turning on every light as he ran. I heard him talking in soft tones to the baby, "Are you ok, buddy?" He said. My heart simply melted, for the millionth time since the baby was born. David came back to bed, but went back in a few minutes later to double check that everything was fine. He was worried about his boy.
When Jackson was born, I was totally prepared for the overwhelming, all-encompassing love I would have for him. I knew that was how moms and dads feel. But I wasn't really aware of how much I would enjoy watching my husband be a dad; how much my love for him would grow each time he washes the baby's hair or kisses his knees to get a baby belly laugh. I am amazed how deep my respect for him runs now and increases every day. My husband's love for Jackson makes me feel loved, too. And his bolting to the nursery in the middle of the night makes me love him more than I did the day we were married. I didn't think that was possible.
We may not have the crazy, carefree, newlywed sex life we had pre-Jackson. But I don't mourn it...much. I just feel lucky to know that I have married not only a great husband, but a great daddy.