Sleeping baby

I take him in the bedroom and tell him it's time for bed.  He signs "night-night" and grins.  I lay him down and he drinks his bottle while I sit on the floor next to the crib, my hand on his tummy.  He hands me his bottle when he's finished.  I lay on the floor reading, looking up often to see his fat little foot sticking between the bars.  And I break into the biggest grin.  That is his little foot.  Right there in front of me!  It takes a lot of restraint to keep from tickling those tiny toes when he pokes his foot out of the crib.  He peeks his head over the bumper pad to make sure I'm still there and he smiles.  He rolls around, talks to himself and giggles until he finally gives in to sleep.  We have been home three weeks now.  I can hardly believe that just a month ago I was still waiting.  That crib sat empty, collecting dust.  And tonight it holds this sweet, precious child.  My child.  I kiss those soft, chubby cheeks countless times a day.  And I am overwhelmed that I can.  The wonder of having him home has not even begun to wear off.