Five years ago today I was huffing and puffing. I was glowing and blowing. Right about now I was contemplating sliding into a nice warm tub to ease the pains and strains of my day. It was an enormous amount of work, but I would do it again in a heart beat. That heart beat was my first born child and love of my life. Today is my celebration of her birth, her celebration of life; T's birthday.
She put me through my paces, but her brilliant eyes awoke in me a love that I had never known. Her tiny hands reached for me and I gave myself wholly and completely without a thought. How could I not? She was perfect. She was everything I had hoped and dreamed for. The nine months leading up to her birth were some of the happiest days of my life (aside from some hormone-induced mood-altered moments that made me wonder if I was carrying Satan's child in my belly). My life was perfect (how many drugs was I on during that time?) and her happy nature was proof of the quality of my days. I loved everything and everyone at that precious moment that I gained the identity of Mommy. For all the strife and gripe, I would never relinquish my hold on that identity and all it encompasses. I love my baby and all she represents. She loved me, changed me and looked up to me regardless of my rights or wrongs. I in my turn changed her (many times over!), loved her and would give her all the fairies in the glen could I to catch them. Forever she is my baby. Forever she is my heart. Happy Birthday is shouted through the ethers of my soul. Chocolate cake will be my reward once the sun says goodnight. And it is good...