A couple weeks ago, I sat on my bed to feed my son.
He ever so adorably finished his bottle.
I burped him.
And then the crying began.
I could tell he was in a lot of pain. This happens sometimes. Most days it's not too bad anymore (thanks to his meds), but some days he's not so lucky.
It was one of THOSE days.
I immediately held him close to me, rocking him back and forth and telling him "I love you, Little Ry Guy." But it didn't really help. I couldn't take away his pain. After a few minutes, I was almost in tears myself. I hated watching him hurt. And there wasn't a doubt in my mind that if I were given the opportunity to experience that pain for him, I would do it in a heartbeat. No questions asked.
And in that moment, I think I comprehended the atonement and our Savior's love for us more than I've ever been able to before.