Year One

My darling boy,

You are my sweetheart, my love, my Babyman. You are the moon to your sister’s sun, your gravitational pull keeps me grounded. You wake up every morning with a Cheshire cat grin on your small face, and you raise up your arms to me, pointing to the door.

Today, my son, you are one.

Twelve months ago this morning, I sat, ripe and impatient, on a doctor’s table. You rolled and kicked inside me as I waited to be sent home for another day of pushing your foot out of my ribcage.

Instead, she sat down and flipped open our chart, frowning at the results of my ultrasound. She saw something she didn’t like, and she told me you needed to come out.

We made our calls and packed my bag, and set off for a new world. Five hours later, a masked woman pushed and pulled and let out a surprised chuckle: He’s a big boy!

They held you up for me to see, and whisked you away. Your daddy took your picture while the doctors put me back together again, and finally, he laid your cheek against mine for a kiss.

The day you were born, Henry, hundreds of strangers welcomed you with love and well wishes. A woman I’ve never laid eyes on sent us a flower in the hospital. You—and I—were supported from all corners of the world. It moved me to tears, that love from afar.

Now, each day, I wake to your rosy cheeks, your beaming smile, your contagious laugh. You are precocious, anxious to catch up with your pirouetting sister. You walked well before you should have, and you climb the furniture with the determination of a Tibetan Sherpa.

You love blueberries and bananas, spaghetti and meatballs. Your first word was cookie, and you enunciate “Daddy” with the diction of true love.

You rarely say Mama. But when you do, it is with your head tucked inside the space between my neck and my ear. I open my arms to you, legs a wide V, and invite you in.

“Hug?” I ask.

Your face lights with a smile and you toddle to me, arms thrown up in the air. You approach me so slowly, so shyly. You put your arms around my neck, bury your face in me. Hmmmmmmmm, you say.

In that moment, I know.

I know you know that I am yours. And I am, my sweetheart. I am your mama, now and forever. And never was a mama more blessed. This past year with you brought more love into my heart than I ever thought possible.

Happy first birthday, Henry. Mama loves you.