I will never forget the first time I addressed him by name. The joy that accompanied it masked all of my fear. He was an early bird too. An old soul determined to make his reappearance before convention told him to. He came quickly, so early. And while I heard his first cry they started to rush him away before I’d laid eyes on him. Before I touched him. Before I convinced myself he was real. I stopped them and quickly placed a hand upon his belly and suddenly knew without a doubt that a mother was what I was always intentioned to be.
My first born, my first loved, my first child.
The one who gave the me the gift I’d sought after for so long. Always the mother hen but never with child. Until him.
Since he has existed so have I. I came to life when he was born. Came into myself. My own purpose. It has not been easy. We’ve been through much. Oh so much. But we’ve had each other he and I. I and him. From that first cry to this very moment.
He has taught me that some have to fight to live, that grace often comes out of humility, that love in and of itself can grow magnificent beings.
His knowing, loving, spirit graces my days and his stubbornness gives me the pause needed to remember where we’ve been. His humor is humbling. His mind is one of the most brilliant I’ve ever seen.
Seven years ago he made me a mother. Today we celebrate.
Happy Birth Day Mosey.