Today is your first birthday. One year ago at 7:00am, you began your descent from my womb into this crazy world. I was scared of all of the pain, but even more frightened of bringing you into today's world. It's not the same place I grew up in. You will face many issues and challenges that I was clueless about as a child.
After a few hours of pushing and a lot more pain, you made your appearance. I didn't get to see you right away. They laid you on my tummy but with your back to me. Then you got whisked away as I got stitches. Daddy & Laura were in the room with me while we worked to get you out of my tummy. I was crying and asked if you were a boy or girl (you were a surprise in so many ways). The nurse said, "it's a moose, it's a moose." I didn't understand until I twisted my head around.
There were your boy parts glaringly large (yes, this is meant to embarrass you some day) and all 9 pound 8 ounces of you. I had a son. A son. Someone to carry on the family name (because you know your Uncle Bonehead isn't ever going to reproduce - thankfully). Someone to call me "mama" and hold my hand. Someone to wrestle around with Daddy and cuddle with Mommy. You are my prince.
As they laid you on my chest so we could nurse and cuddle, we were both shivering - you from being in shock and out of my warm womb; me from the wearing off of my epidural. As our lips quivered in unison, I realized that as scared as I was about bringing you into this world that I would protect you in every way possible. I was your mom.
Now it's been a year of ups and downs. I hated taking you to day care. I won't lie; I cried almost every day. I hated leaving you with Rachel and Amy and Grandma Pam. Not that I didn't trust them (mostly), I just wanted to be with you.
I missed you rolling over....and back again. But I was there to see you crawl, take your first steps, say mama and dada. You held your arms up to me first. I taught you to clap your hands, give high fives, and give kisses.
I'm sorry for every time I yelled at you (unless it was to keep you safe Mr. I-want-to-stick-my-hands-in-the-heater) and for every stupid time I got annoyed or frustrated with you. I'm sorry for letting you cry, although I know it's ok and sometimes good for you.
Graduation was the proudest day of my life. With my degree I will show you how important education is. I was also so thrilled to become a full-time mom.
I may not enjoy every second of every day, but a good nap with you can usually cure my blues. I love waking up to your cries because I know you want me (and food). I adore when you mess around with my scrapbook stuff (although I don't act it) because I know you are just interested in what I'm doing.
I hate the stretch marks my pregnancy caused, but I love that you don't care. You even try to find my tummy by lifting up my shirt, then kneading my cushion. I hate trying to lose weight, but I'm so glad you and I can do it together (by walking in the stroller; I swear you're not on a diet).
Thank you for being so darn cute. For sharing Popsicles with me - and kisses.
Thank you for being a really laid-back kiddo and a very sweet boy. This year has flown by unimaginably fast, but I'm so thankful for every second God has allowed me with you. I know you are only on loan from Him, that He is your Abba. I'm so thankful that He trusts me enough to be your mother, your mommy, your mama. I'm doing my best and although I've failed at some things, today you are one. Today you are a big boy, and yet you will always be my baby.
I love you.