So-

As I have no frame of reference for this situation I have to wonder if this is normal. *runs her nails through her hair* Am I some kind of freaking imbecile or something? Normally, I wouldn't think so. I'd like to think I'm decently intelligent, emotionally sound, if not prone to excess, perhaps. *nods* I'm normally quite loquacious as well. I tend to be fairly verbose and select my words fairly carefully before proceeding to commit to statement- except for maybe those few emotionally charged rapid-fire "Fuck me? Fuck You." situations.

Maybe that's it. I know it's a very emotional thing. Feelings riding incredibly high in ways that I still can't readily explain. Much as if you were to ask me how  Sanita_Squirrel makes me feel or why I love her so, I really couldn't give a set answer. *head tilts, eyebrow arcs* This was kind of like that but dialed up to maybe THIRTEEN or so. I'm not sure if the dial popped off the Staxx or not. That metaphor might make even more sense.

Still- I feel a bit off when I realize, after the moment, that I've spent the last nine months with her, the other great love of my life, growing, sharing, learning, loving, waiting to meet this person, our son, and when the opportunity finally presents itself and there he is, the single most beautiful thing I think I've ever seen in my life, this little helpless person, this new life, a melding of everything beautiful in her and I in a pristine and unsullied swirl of stardust, this little bundle of hope, love, possibility and promise beyond anything I could ever have expected to see in those little eyes. My chest is pounding in a way I didn't know it could, feeling it in my ears, my cheeks, in the tears stinging at the dams behind my eyes ...and what comes out of my face?

"He's so tiny."

By the way, Edgar's birthday is February 26th.