Personal Touch

Aaron was beyond tired at bedtime tonight. He thumbed through the pages of a book and tried desperately to keep it upright as he rapidly drifted off to sleep. As I put him in his crib and turned to leave he started a sleep laden cry. The soft slow kind that are full of exhaustion as well as desperation at the thought of being left alone. I sat next to the crib, reached in and stroked his nose.

It came to me that I did not recall ever using that comforting touch with Aaron. Or Isaac for that matter. A stroke on the nose was a Caleb comfort.

I've always worried how each little boy I've been blessed with would perceive my love. This battle was especially difficult in the midst of all the hormones surrounding my second pregnancy. I feared would not have the heart to love my second little one the way I loved my precious Caleb. Even more, I feared I would love Isaac more. My emotions ran rampant and truly toyed with my heart.

Now tonight, for possibly the first time, I have realized that it truly is possible to love each of my children uniquely without loving them any more or less than another.

Each one of my three little boys has a personal touch that I associate solely with him. It's a connection a comfort that has gone unnoticed for this long.

For Aaron it's running my fingers through the fine hair at the base of his neck. What used to be his baby curl.

For Isaac, it's a gentle tickling of his skinny little ankles that have forever poked out beneath his Bubba.

And Caleb, I will always remember drifting to sleep to the soothing touch of a stroke on his nose.