Sometimes I am in shock and awe when I look at my boy. I sit and wonder...is this really the same boy?
The same little hands that were the size of my finger, that now push trucks and color pictures?
The same skinny arms that once dangled my moms wedding ring off of them, that now throw balls and give hugs?
The same body that once snuggled on our chests for kangaroo care, that now stretches out (and takes up) most of his crib?
The same cheeks that were once covered with tape and tubes, that are now rosy as he plays outside?
The same little nose that once had oxygen in it for months and months, that now handles a cold like a champ?
The same itsy bitsy feet that he once stretched out of his z-flo mattress that now run through the house and climb slides in the yard?
The same little boy that once was overstimulated by touch that now says "again!" when I tickle his back?
I am often overwhelmed when I think about Cohen and his entrance into this world. There are days when I look back at his pictures and wonder how this can possibly be the same boy. But then I see his fighting spirit and his determination and I know that this is indeed that same teeny, tiny micropreemie who is now a big, strong two year old. And I couldn't be more thankful for him and be more amazed at all he has overcome.