I know I should have helped him back down and left his room, but instead I picked him up and we rocked. I've rocked him countless times in that chair, but tonight it was different. As he was staring at me, gently touching my face, I couldn't help but think about all of those times I'd sat in that chair before he was born.
I was really scared to buy that chair. I was scared to buy anything for him or for his room. I was scared to have baby showers, scared to turn in my resignation at school. I was scared for April 19 to come. I was scared to walk into the hospital because I was scared for Derrick to come into this world.
Yes, I was excited about meeting him. I was excited about seeing what he looked like, about holding him for the first time. I was excited to become his mommy.
But I was terrified that I would never get to rock my baby in that chair.
I couldn't imagine having to make the hour and a half drive home from Charleston with an empty car seat. Having to walk up the stairs and see that beach-house blue room and having no reason to walk inside. I couldn't imagine sitting in the chair without him in my belly or in my arms.
I couldn't imagine the unimaginable.
But I couldn't help but think about it.
There were many, many days when I would sit in that chair and beg, bargain, and plead for God to let me bring my baby home. Every single day after we found out about Derrick's special heart, I prayed we would be able to bring him home. I prayed that prayer in the shower, in the car, in the kitchen, in the chair.
On May 6, that prayer was answered. The first thing we did when we brought Derrick into our home for the very first time was take him to his room and rock him in the chair.
Tonight as I was rocking D, holding my answered prayer in my arms while he touched the tears running down my cheeks, I thanked God for my precious baby boy and and the sweet moments that we've shared together, especially in the chair.