Max has woken up to the world. He's awake for big stretches of time. He coos and laughs and smiles. He reaches out for his siblings and grabs them and pats them. He's two months old, and I can't imagine life without him.
It's weird, because I still really miss Paul, too. I wish he'd survived and been born. But if Paul had lived, he'd already be sitting up. Max wouldn't exist. And I don't want to trade Max for Paul. In a perfect world, I'd get to have them BOTH -- which is completely and totally impossible.
I suppose this is one of those weird paradoxes that will only work itself out in eternity. And, in the meantime, I'm glad for all 5 of my kids - the four who enjoy each other's company (most of the time. :) ) and the one who they didn't get the chance to know.