Visit with Santa

 

*poof* 

Y’all should know by now, I’m not big on posting photos.  So this will come down in a few days.  But I had to share.  Time for the pic to come down, sorry.

We went to see the mall Santa this morning.  Someone was awake until we got in the stroller, and by the time we got from car to Santa’s booth, he was passed out.  Didn’t bother Santa, he snuggled him up anyway. 

I cried.  I’m still crying.  I feel like all I do is cry some days.  And it bothers people — Santa gave me a hug this morning, the lactation consultant the other day suggested I might have postpartum depression.  But I know it’s not.  How do you explain to someone that you never met before, that you’ll never see again, that you’re crying because you thought this day might never come?  How do you explain the years spent terrified that you would never get to pass your son into Santa’s lap, the Christmases past spent wishing for these precious fleeting moments?  That these tears are of celebration, an outpouring of love for that tiny little body in your arms, for all the hopes and dreams now made flesh? 

He’ll be six weeks old tomorrow.  Six perfect weeks.

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12 thoughts on “Visit with Santa

  1. I cried enough when Emery was in her first few months for many an eyebrow to be raised about PPD. But it wasn’t that at all. I was just happy dangit. To the point of tears. And for the first time, crying wasn’t so draining anymore.

    He’s gorgeous, Sharah. Thanks for sharing.

  2. This is the cutest picture. Thank you for letting us get a peek at your little guy. Totally understand the tears, and though they may lessen over time they never fully go away. It’s hard to look at such a beautiful and amazing creature without fully feeling the emotional weight of an outcome you never expected. Far from depression, it’s mama love.

  3. I’m soooo where you are sista! I don’t know that I’d say I cry ALL the time, but I cry a lot lately, and I really don’t believe it’s depression or sadness or anything like that. It’s just this overwhelming sense of HOLY FUCK, and it’s there ALL THE TIME, cuz wow, I just took my son to the grocery store, or I just got complimented by some stranger on my son, or I’m posting photos of my son… Ie. I HAVE A SON! And it’s just so… wow.

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