For nine months I carried you and spoke to you and dreamed with you.
I thought you were a girl
I thought about naming you Mercy
I promised you I'd be there for you, love you, unconditionally forever.
I dreamed about the walks we'd take, the games we'd play, the friends you'd make
On the morning you were born
I awoke feeling stranger than normal, everything was glowing
golden lights danced around the room
I was restless and took a walk, to get things moving
Unsure if this was really the day, after the false labor ten days ago.
We lived in a remote mountain town, three thousand feet up, it was the round valley
Pristine, idyllic, the long road into town was lined with cattle ranches, fence posts and cows.
Chilly January morning, I walked out into the morning dew, alone, with you
I wore the only dress I owned, the same one I had worn every day for the past several months. (yes I washed it in the evenings)
Running shoes, wool socks.
I smelled the sweetness of the mountain morning, mixed with damp field grasses and anticipation.
As I walked, the cows came to the fence by the road and in muffled snorting sounds they told me it was time, I'd be OK, I was crossing the threshold of motherhood. They were the sacred gatekeepers, they blessed us.
Two and half hours after the labor kicked in, you were born, sparkling blue eyes, and sunny side up.
I held you in my arms and cried.
So perfect, so beautiful, so wise.
I stayed awake the entire night, looking at you in awe.
Never had I met such a wise and pure soul.
But I knew you for eternity and loved you the same. You would look into my eyes, so small, pleading with me to protect you. I promised, but sometimes I have failed to keep my promises. Not because I didn't want to but because I didn't know how.
On the day you were born, I learned the true meaning of love. You are my precious baby boy.
Happy twenty-third birthday. I am so proud of you.