Belly Laughs

Today as I sat in my dark living room at 3 in the afternoon, rocking my sleeping baby who had spent the past hour screaming for reasons unknown to me, tears came streaming down my face. It was not a good time. I started a pity party.

Why does this have to be so hard? Why does he cry like this? Why can't I fix it?

I was mentally writing a rough draft for a blog post that probably would've been a little unflattering as I spilled my guts and made everyone feel so, so sorry for me. I'm so glad I did not write that post and I get to write this one instead.

It was not pretty, to say the least. Just as I was in the throes of completely and utterly gut-wrenching sobs something so amazing happened. This is probably the single most amazing moment of my entire motherhood, besides the actual births of my children.

Noah opened up his eyes and stared straight up at the ceiling. Then he let out the biggest belly laugh I have ever seen. He was laughing so hard that I could actually hear him laughing without his speaking valve on! I began to sob even harder knowing that this was God intervening at a most crucial and beautiful time. Noah continued to let out these huge laughs while simply looking at the ceiling. I wasn't touching or tickling or rocking him. Nothing. He was just happy and probably making fun of Mommy a little bit for being such a cry baby.

I started laughing with him through my tears. It was truly the most special and wonderful moment. I once again learned something very important from Noah. If he can laugh those big, beautiful belly laughs and find a reason to smile, even if it's just at the ceiling, then I have no reason to cry or feel sorry for myself. Noah is the one with the diagnosis, not me. If he is smiling then I can smile, too.