this time eleven years ago...
I lay in bed, exhausted after 32 hours of arduous labor, overwhelmingly in awe of the little creature nestled in my arms.
I had been afraid. I had really believed that for some reason, having children wouldn't come easily, if at all. I wanted it more than anything, but I feared it wasn't in the cards. But there he was, pink and healthy (albeit temporarily cone-headed...poor thing,) nursing and sleeping and pooping and crying and being certifiably the most amazing, wonderful baby ever. I felt like the only person in the world who had ever known the sense of miraculousness that having a baby seems to invoke.
To this day, I still sometimes have to shake my head at the wonder of it all, at the great privilege of being mama to this boy, this young man, really. He is whip-smart, truly kind, genuine, funny, a freckled, sparkling-blue-eyed goofball who knows exactly when to have fun and when to take life very seriously. He's a wonderful brother, a true-blue friend, and a devoted sweetheart of a son.