Looking for an excuse to linger in Zeph's room after tucking him into bed, I found myself telling him about when he was born. About how sweet and tiny and healthy he was. About how he slept on my chest for that first night and how delighted I was to see his pink face every time I opened my eyes.
Those magic first days of motherhood. That huge, endless love*.
His face was full of wonder as I told him about the first time he met his grampies, his aunts and uncles and our treasured friends. They all loved him too, many of them had tears of joy in their eyes as they held him. Some let them flow shamelessly while others wiped them away before they reached their lips. We saw them all though, and with each tear we felt the love our people had for him, little Zephie.
As the story unfolded the smile upon his face grew wider.
He was thinking about cake. Chocolate cake.
'And was there a massive cake for me on my birthday, mumma?'
I laughed as I answered, telling him no, we didn't have a cake
Bemused he said 'well we should have a huge chocolate cake for the new baby on it's birthday'.
And so it is written, the day before this new baby enters our blessed world, we shall make it a chocolate cake.
The following day all 5 of us will sit up on the hospital bed and spill crumbs as we devour it.
* i could feel it just the same as I sat with him on his big-boy-single-bed. His hand are bigger, his eyes just as wide. the love is even more endless than I can comprehend.