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Friday, October 2, 2009


Eleven years ago,
I went in to the hospital.

My head swollen with eagerness and anticipation,
my body swollen with life, ready to be born.

On this day,
my son who had been hidden from my view
for three seasons
would make his appearance
and all the questions that had been asked and wondered
would begin to be answered.

What color would his hair be? {blond}
What color would his eyes be? {startlingly blue}
Who would he look like? {my brother}


Thus began my adventure with my sweet middle child.

Chris was the most calm of the babies I carried in my womb.
He would move in slow, lazy, languishing movements.
I could feel his fingers moving slowly, rhythmically,
deep in my pelvic floor.

I saw those same hand and finger movements
after his birth.
Hands up beside his face, tiny fingers flexing open and closed
one by one.

"I knew you," I would whisper into his tiny seashell ear
as I held him in the midnight hours,
"Even before I saw you, I knew these movements you make
and I loved you as my son."


And love that boy I do, that big eleven year old boy.
Caught between childhood and adolescence,
sometimes I am startled by the sight of him.
Surely he has not grown so much over night!
How did he get to be so tall so soon?

I see him occasionally flexing his arms and sneaking a peek
at his biceps.
Every now and again he will ask if I think his voice is changing.
Not quite yet, dear boy.
It will happen soon enough.

Give your mom's heart a little more time to prepare.


Ginaagain said...

Happy Birthday Chris! I can't believe how time has just flown by.

jen@odbt said...

Happy Birthday to your son. Such beautiful words - you're lucky to have each other.