(probably the last use of 1st person,bear with me and sorry that it's short)

Zayn. 

God. I almost cried when the little angel was in distress from getting changed. He's so perfect, my baby. I can't believe he's finally mine. When he drank from the bottle, to which I had of course drugged to make him to sleep faster, possibly make him wet himself and limited his movement.

I watched him sleep for a while, thinking of what age group I should put him in. Maybe keep him at the ages 1 to 3 or restart his life as a newborn until he mentally aged to 5 and keep restarting him? I'm not sure but I know it'll be great because I know he will be a perfect baby. He's so cute. I carried him back into his room and set him in his crib, to which I locked it but I still watched him.... The rising and falling of his chest as he breathed, how his eyelashes basically rest on his cheekbones. He's truly perfect. His cute little tummy was adorable and I know it's wrong but even the way he cried was  beautiful.

I still had some work to do so I turned off lights which turned the nightlight on automatically, closed the door and left the nursery. I went the kitchen cleaning it up a bit since it relaxed me. Then I went to the living room with my lyric book. I turned the telly on and wrote whatever came to mind in the book. I accidentally fell asleep on the couch, well I deserve the rest.