Last Saturday, on Dec. 3, A. and I met our son Colin Michael Olsen at 10:11 a.m. at Georgetown Hospital. Labor was the most intense, painful 12 hours I have ever endured — and A. cried several times throughout the night — but it was all worth it when I held our baby boy, about a minute after he popped out sunny-side up, crying and squirming, red-faced and bruised from 3 1/2 hours of traveling down the birth canal (I plan to write his birth story eventually). He weighed 7 pounds 14 ounces at birth and was 19 inches long.
Nine days later, he’s passed his birth weight at 8 pounds. I’m sitting on our couch on this chilly Monday, listening to David Berkeley with A. and Colin has snuggled his chubby cheeks against my chest — his soft, warm body slumped in sleepy contentment. I want to savor every detail about these fleeting moments with our beautiful baby boy, who is already growing and changing. I can’t get enough of his soft skin, curious eyes and mousy squeaks. It’s amazing how quickly you can love a tiny being — and I expect the love to grow and expand with each day.