Laying in bed on a cold, rainy Saturday, my hand gently resting on my growing belly, Poopy beside me, my hand linked with Abel's over her head. Just being.
Watching my belly move with kicks and turns, seeing the look on Abel's face when he gets to see it too.
Laying in bed, just the two of us, holding hands. No words are necessary. The love is there, and is the loudest and sweetest thing in the room.
Seeing pink cheeks, hair damp from her bath, smelling like the baby she no longer is as she kisses me good night.
A phone call from my sister on a shitty day, just letting me know that she cares, that she's here.
Waking up each day realizing that all is right in my world. I am loved, I love, and because of that, not much else matters.
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