A perfectly mundane, perfectly miraculous moment:
Oliver-- soft baby flesh naked but for a diaper--in my arms as I approached the top of the stairs. I'd just been at work on his horrendously chopped, beautiful hair, trying to begin the process of putting to rights what will someday be a head full of brown locks. The fly-away strands tickled my nose as he bobbed from side to side in my arms, trying to get a better view of the massive dog that is somehow always underfoot these days. I glanced down to get a glimpse of his delight at seeing the dog. Just then, he flicked his eyes up at me. And there we were, grinning at each other. A long second and then ... a huge grin spread across his face, and he began his manic happy baby dance. Arms flailing, feet kicking, knees bump-bumping my sides. His hands grabbed around my neck and he burrowed his face into my collarbone, still wiggling ecstatically.
My heart almost burst. It was the almost-painful moment I can clearly remember with each of my bio kids--the absolute second that I felt like this baby was mine, and that to be without him or her in my life would be like deciding to try to live without air.
I am head over heels in love.