“I loved you from the very first second the social worker put you in my arms at the agency office,” I told him with a wide, honest smile.

“Did I cry a lot back then?” he asked, curious.

“Oh, you screamed bloody murder for the first two weeks straight, Austin, because you absolutely hated riding in your baby car seat,” I laughed softly at the memory.

His eyes went wide with surprise, and a tiny spark of humor came back into his sad little face.

“Really?

I cried that much?” he asked, honestly amazed.

“You threw your bottles across the living room carpet every time you finished your formula, and you wouldn’t sleep unless I rocked you in the glider until two in the morning,” I told him, tapping the tip of his nose.