Just over four months ago I was being split open to make room for her. My heart, too, it split. That second part is not so painful because it is simply a growing and a stretching. A widening of the chambers and valves so that more love can beat through.
I am not the only one growing. These boys are bigger than their bones. Full of softness and sweet moments and giving up of their own ways. Still, of course, with those very true moments of pulling on the same toy and refusing to give up. They are creating worlds of magic in their rooms, building creatures and castles from legos.
Cooper herself is full of magic. Stringy drool like wet combwebs from her mouth, yet everyone still wants to kiss her. (Maybe after a nice, cleansing wipe.) She speaks in unintelligible squawks and gurgles, yet we all listen to each word. We all become fools to win the sight of her dimple.
Rob has become a father to a daughter. What this means, exactly, is still unknown, but based on the way her face beams like a lighthouse, we’re all headed for the rocks.
Four months and we are all bigger.