...right this second, I'm pretty sure I was comfortable. The epidural had set in, a perfect, perfect epidural, with leg control AND the complete absence of pain in the abdominal area. Only the allergy to the narcotic that made me itch from the boobs up was keeping it from being a perfect afternoon in the hospital (lol). I knew I wanted a nap, and lunch, and that I was excited to meet you, and I knew that all signs pointed to me getting to meet you that day (which I did, if only by 5 minutes). But there was so much I didn't know.
I couldn't see you then. So I didn't know that you'd have that little knob on your ear that I have, that your uncles both have. I didn't know you'd get my nose and Daddy's hair. I didn't know you'd have eyes as blue as pools; or that your laugh would give me goosebumps; or that you'd say things like "GET OUT FROM DIS TOWN!" instead of the common phrase of disbelief "Get outta town!" and send your father and I rolling with laughter. I didn't know your sister didn't have her best friend yet. I didn't know that I would find fat rolls completely lovable and endearing. I didn't know you would be kind, and gentle, and tender-hearted like your Daddy, and that you would say things like "You best Mom EVER, Mommy - I kiss you now." I didn't know how different, and how equally wonderful, it would be to raise you compared with raising your sister.
I didn't know how much I could love a little boy.
I didn't know my heart would ache with love and burst the second I saw you.
I didn't know our family wasn't complete until you came to be with us.
I know all of that now. And I'm so happy to know all of the things I know about you, and on your birthday, my sweet boy, I am more grateful than ever to have the rest of your life to learn so much more about you. I hope you have a perfect day today.
Momma loves you.
*Photo credit: http://www.sararogersphotography.com/