I stared at the tiny bundle of baby I held in my arms and my eyes slowly filled with tears. Tears of joy and love and excitement. Tears of nearly nine months worth of eager anticipation, waiting and longing to be in this exact spot at this exact moment holding this exact bundle of joy. I stared at my husband whose eyes were also filled with tears as he filmed his wife and new baby -- to be sitting here next to this exact man.

I counted the tiny fingers and caressed the tiny toes. I kissed his tiny cheeks and marveled at how beautiful our son was. I'd always thought he would be beautiful... but this... I'd never imagined just how beautiful he'd be or how quickly I would love him.

He stirred slightly in my arms and opened his eyes momentarily. I took those few moments to look into those amazing brown orbs of enlightenment. They seemed to reach right into his soul and tell the stories of a thousand memories I would never experience with him. The memories of those nine months inside my tummy and the memories of a time long before then.

His memories of Heaven.

I believe that every child is a gift from God, wrapped up and given to our world for a specific purpose. I believe that it is our job to unwrap the child over the years and figure out what that purpose is. I peered down at him as he opened his eyes again. I silently wondered how many of my friends he'd met in Heaven... oh the stories this little one could tell if only he had the words to tell them.

I believe we are all born from Heaven with stories and thoughts and memories that we long to tell, but we can't. We can't tell them because we are too young and too weak and too innocent. And as we grow we forget those stories, those memories, those people. But as much as we forget those people and those memories, we meet new people and make new memories and even without realizing it we take a part of all of those people we met in Heaven with us... a reincarnation of sorts.

I wondered which parts of which people my son would carry with him for the rest of his life. I hoped he'd met Christi and Rachel up there. I hoped he would be as compassionate as Christi and as funny as Rachel and I hoped with my whole heart that he would have as beautiful a spirit as sweet Matthew.

I carefully removed his tiny hat and sighed at the sight of his sweet, round, nearly bald head. I leaned down and inhaled his baby scent and kissed his barely peachy fuzz and in that moment it came to me.

"Matthew," I whispered as I breathed in the experience of my newborn son.

Aj leaned over with a questioning glance as I carefully handed him our baby, "What sweetheart... I didn't hear you?"

"What do you think of the name Matthew?" I whispered a little louder as I watched his face for any sign of disappointment. There was only a smile and a nod.

"Matthew..." He repeated. "I love it."

It was my turn to smile as I took in the sight of my husband and my perfect son. The two of them were beautiful sitting there together in the sunlight coming through the window of our hospital room. I couldn't help but be amazed by everything my life had given me... at how far we'd come to be in this place at this moment... to be welcoming a new baby into our lives.

"Matthew James McLean," Aj whispered as he planted several kisses on our baby's tiny forehead, "Welcome to the world my son."

"Welcome to the world."