Well, it certainly wasn't the first time in the past two months and I'm sure it wouldn't be the last. I was going to bed smelling like sour milk. Today, after a touchy stomach, our grandson had delivered his bottle on me twice. It had been one of those days! We'd babysat another little guy that day too and shortly after the first bottle had been upchucked on my shirt, the other little guy peed on my pants. Adding to the chaos was the construction crew ripping off siding since our house had experienced hail damage and of course, this was the week they were starting the repairs, pounding nails and literally knocking pictures off the walls as we were attempting to comfort two babies. The morning also consisted of a phone visit with our oldest son who was celebrating a birthday. Oh how we missed him on special days like today, wishing we lived closer so we could be celebrating together. Somewhere in it all, I still needed to make my business appointments and yet, by noon, I hadn't even started on my To Do list. I had, however, changed my clothes twice!

When I finally found my bed that night, the smells of the day lingered. But I couldn't help but think how sweet it had all been. With our children nearly raised, it had been some time since I'd been with babies. And I was one of those mama's that just never got enough of them. If it had been up to me, we'd have had a house full of babies. But after much struggle and loss, we were thrilled that we'd had the privilege of raising three children. Now, by some amazing miracle, we had a new baby in our home. And not just any baby but our grandson. It didn't seem possible.

Reflecting on the day I couldn't help but think of the many sweet moments that came with a new baby...like when his mama laid him in bed between Ron and I in the early morning hours. What a joy to snuggle with him just like we had with our own children so many years ago. And there were the sweet smiles that slowly crept to his face as he dozed off to sleep, and the wonderful joy when his crying stopped once a bottle was in his mouth.

I also loved how he looked at his mommy. It's like his eyes would just melt as he'd watch her face with such intensity. Then there was our teenage son who couldn't seem to get enough of his new nephew, begging to hold and feed him whenever he was home. Funny thing though, he never wanted to change his diaper. What's with that?

Sometimes I got to do the last bottle of the night and I savored his gentle breath on my neck as I burped him that last time before putting him into his crib. Then having done so, it was all I could do to pull myself away as I watched him sleep. Is there anything sweeter than a sleeping baby?

Oh, how I loved the simple pleasure of having a baby in our lives. What fun it was to do it all over again except with more confidence than when I was a young mother. And this time there was the joy of watching my own daughter as a mother. I was so proud of her. She was a wonderful mother. But what also made it even more special was just knowing that we got to keep him. Of our three children, our last two had been adopted. When they had been our sweet grandson's age, they were still our foster children and in spite of how much we had loved them, we weren't even sure we would get to keep them. Thinking back to that time, I hadn't realized how different it felt. The pain that we carried in our hearts, wondering if they would someday be ours was so different than the complete freedom in knowing that this little guy would always be a part of our family.

Who would have ever guessed that someday we would have such joy in our lives again...a joy that seemed to mend the pain of uncertainty of years ago. So with the scent of sour milk on my skin, I closed my tired eyes, grateful for the sweetness of a new baby, which couldn't be more accurately described than in God's own word: "A blessing and gift from the Lord," Psalm 127:3.