I barfed all day for months on end when he was first conceived. Then, I waddled around with him in utero, dealing with all the usual: heartburn, fatigue, sciatic nerve pain, swelling, and did I mention fatigue? Then I labored for hours, finally giving birth to him without so much as even a Tylenol for the pain. Then I dealt with all the postpartum hormones, nursing 'round the clock, and did I mention fatigue? I've changed diapers endlessly, and fed endlessly. I've read him a million books, and given at least twice that many hugs. He's my little boy, my only son so far, and I love him to bits.
So what does he have to say for himself? "I luvvu, Daddy." What?!? Now wait just a minute! I accepted the fact that his first two-syllable words were "Dada", "cookie", and then "Mama", in that order. I mean, cookies are hard to beat, and he is my son after all. I've never solicited an "I love you" from him, because what good would that be if it wasn't unprompted? But when I kept hearing "I luvvu, Daddy" over the past few days, I was beginning to wonder.
Today ended my longing. As I put him in his crib for nap and covered him with his silky, I said my usual, "Have a good nap, Garfield. I love you." To which he replied, "I luvvu, Mommy."
Ahhhh. Some moments make it all worthwhile.