To James With Love

I wish that I could have been there on the day you arrived in this world.

I wish that I could have held you then, and rocked you, and cooed over your every move.

I wish that I could have fed you, cradled in my arms, snuggled up close, and gazing into your eyes.

I wish that I could have bathed you, and then as you began to cry, that I could have wrapped you in your towel, singing softly to you as I put on a new diaper, smothered you in sweet smelling baby lotion, and dressed you in some sweet adorable outfit.

I wish that I could have heard your cries in the night, and could have drowsily dragged myself out of bed to comfort you.

I wish that I could have soothed you when you were sick, or sad, or hungry or mad.

I wish that I had been there when you had the chicken pox, to put socks on your hands so that you wouldn't scratch.

I wish that I could have seen your first step, heard your first word, felt your first hug.

I wish that I could have gently put Orajel on your sore gums, when your gigantic teeth began breaking through.

I wish that I could have caught you when you fell, heard you when you cried, helped you when you needed it most.

I wish that I could have sung to you at bedtime, read to you on my lap, and then kissed your sweet little face all over.

I wish that I could have made your first birthday cake, and given you your first taste of ice cream.

I wish that I could have wrapped up your presents on your very first Christmas and watched with delight as you tore open the paper.

I wish that we could have laughed together, and played silly little games like Peek-a-boo, and This Little Piggy.

I wish I could have counted your fingers and your toes when they were tiny, and could have taught you where your belly button was, and your nose, and your eyes, and your hands.

I wish that I could have washed and combed your hair keeping it clean, beautiful and soft.

I wish that I could have given you your first tickle, and heard your first giggle, and taught you that you could trust me to stop before it became overwhelming to you.

I wish I could have held you, and held you, and held you some more.

I wish that I could have talked to you about Jesus back when the veil was still so thin for you - that I could have taught you then how much He loves you.

I wish that I could have carried you around the house in a Snuggli, against my chest, as I did my chores around the house.

I wish that your older brother and your sisters could have held you as a baby, when you were all tiny and pink, with me helping them to support your head.

I wish that I had been there for your doctor's visits, so that I could have held you tight when they gave you your shots, and then held you tenderly after it was all done and you were crying because it hurt and surprised you.

I wish that you could have fallen asleep in my arms, and because I was so tired, I could have fallen asleep with you, our heartbeats and our breathing falling in rhythm with each other as we shared each other's warmth.

I wish that I could have taught you your how to be safe, how to listen when you hear the words "No" or "Come back" or "Stop" or "Be careful" or "That's hot!"

I wish that you could have played and explored the house while I did my housework, so that you could have learned what the world is all about.

I wish that I could have wiped away the little drips of formula, and then patted your back firmly but kindly when you needed to burp.

I wish that I could have played on the floor with you, laying on our tummies together on a blanket, looking at colorful toys and each other's face.

I wish that I could have encouraged you to roll over, to scoot, to crawl, and to stand.

I wish that you could have heard my voice as I talked to you throughout the day, giving you language, given you words, giving you your voice.

I wish that I could have changed your diapers, wiping your bottom gently, all the while apologizing to you that the wipies were so cold.

I wish that I could have buckled you into your car seat when I had errands to run, and could have sang songs to you as I drove, to keep you happy and content.

I wish that "Mom" had been your first word, and that "I love you" would have been your first sentence, and that I could have heard them both.

I wish that you had heard my voice every night and day telling you how much I love you.

I wish that you had felt my kisses and my touch every day.

I wish that I had known you 569 days before I did.

I wish that I had spent every minute of your first 1,046,960 minutes of your life with you.

I wish that I could have held onto you and taken you home that night when your birth mom took you back. I wish that I hadn't broken your heart that night - I didn't want to!

I wish that you could know how much I love you now - how much I loved you the first moment I saw you - how much I'll love you tomorrow and the next day and the next day.