I am that woman who cries at commercials (on the RADIO), gets snappy and grouchy over little things, giggles for no reason, and experiences a level of joy she could never have imagined when she looks at her little one's face.
I laugh at myself often, because I was sure I would never be like this. I am humbled, baffled, and amused by my state.
I have mostly lost the ability to keep track of time (including what day it is). I cannot remember anything of significance. I forget to do what I say I will do, lose track of things in my hands, forget to eat...the list goes on.
Yet I can remember the last time Brennon did pretty much anything. I have lost my ability to interpret social cues, yet I can tell exactly what the noise he is currently making means. (Mostly) The human body is a marvellous invention. The creation, growth, birth, and nurturing of a child is an undeniable miracle. I'm pretty sure any argument against God can be shut down by the (extremely articulate) statement: "But, babies."
Parenthood is a huge sacrifice--bigger than I could have grasped before we had Brennon. But I'll gladly give up some of my sleep, my dignity, even my sanity to be a part of the mind-blowing miracle that is Brennon's life. And I'll do it with hands raised in praise to God. Only His awesome, limitless, slightly mischievous, and absolutely GOOD mind could come up with a plan like this.
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