My baby sure chalked it up today, the poor guy. He had his GI tract x-rays done bright and early, and he drank that bottle of barium like a champ (or as well as a usually-breastfed-bottle-hating baby could), however scary it looked for opaque white globbiness to spill out of his mouth and all over him. He didn't even cry through the ordeal of his x-rays as he was turned and moved around. He spit up plenty while the doctor's eyebrows raised as he said, "He's refluxing," with such gusto that I realized in a second I was not being a paranoid first-time mother thinking Gabe's routine shrieking to be more than, "I.want.milk."
And when he was all done and I picked him up to take him to a changing room to clean him up, he smiled a huge smile and said, "Haaaayyy, Iyeeee, Huh-iiiiii," as he usually does when he sees me for the first time after not. He smiled through a rough little spot this morning, and it was possibly the first moment of many to come that I can and will say I was a very proud momma.
This morning, I was so proud of my son.