You…

I found out about you after two months of having a stomach bug that wouldn’t go away.

Your Dad and I weren’t planning on you so soon…but you were there. And I had never been so happy.

You…

Grew inside my body, and my heart grew a million sizes as things transformed. My skin stretched, and my heart began to feel brand new things, things I never knew I could feel–instincts I never knew I had. I knew one thing, you were the best thing I had ever created, ever been able been able to grow.

You…

Were more important than finishing college, and more important that any job I had. You changed the way we viewed our life path, and I didn’t understand how I could view life so differently suddenly.

But then I met…

You.

You came fast and furiously, and I didn’t get to hold you because of complications and your Dad named you. He held you next to my face. And you looked right at me. And you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.

You…

were born with your eyes wide open, like you’d been waiting a long time to look around.

You. Never. Stopped.

You…

brought out every spidey sense I ever had. I wouldn’t let everyone hold you. I became incredibly aware of the world, and who I was. I remember going to the grocery store for the first time after you were born, by myself, and panicked at the check out thinking I’d forgotten you in the car. But you were home, but still your grip was tightly around my heart.

You…

Had the most delicious giggle and it still comes out when you think something is very funny. You have a birthmark of white hair on the top of your head that I have always loved. You taught me everything I knew about being a mother.

You…

Were the first one to call me Mom. You were the first one to make my heart physically hurt when you woke up with a fever, when we rushed to the ER at night with your asthma, when you pushed your hair into spikes when you had sunscreen in it and and smiled so big and open at me.

You…

Feel everything. Care deeply for people. Hurt when they are hurting. Understand what it’s like to not be good enough, even when you’re trying hard enough. You know what’s it’s like to have people hurt you. And it hurts me to know that it’s just a part of life, and that it’s something we all go through, but I never want it to happen to…

You.

And now, you’re a teenager. I blinked and it happened. You are a musician. An athlete. A student. A brother. A Christian. A son. And a teenager. You are changing, but I still see you…my little boy.

So please know…

I…

Am having a hard time watching you grow up. I’m so proud of the person you are, and I’m so grateful to be raising such an amazing beautiful person. But It is hard. To watch you need freedom, to let you go. To see you be hurt. And to not want to step in.

I…

Am still learning about how to find that balance of Mom of a little boy and Mom of a young man…and it’s not an easy balance. But I expect you to get good grades. I expect you to try. I expect you to be kind to others. I expect you to respect adults. I expect you to never text and drive. I expect you to live your faith.

I…

Know you are good. I know you gave your St Patrick’s Day glasses last year to someone who kept getting pinched, and I know you helped someone get to the office all Fall from their locker because they had a broken leg. I know you came to me when a friend was in trouble, because you were worried. You. Are Good.

I…

Want you to know that in life I may say a lot of things but someday all that will matter to me–will not be a degree, or a high paying job, or awards or accolades, but knowing that you are a good person. That you know God.

I…

Give you to Him. Daily. Because I will fail. I will let you down. I have let you down. But I have loved you enough to know that the gift of your life, turned and stretched and made me better than I could have ever imagined.

So, maybe sometimes I hold too tightly. Or I stare, because you’ll look at me, and your growing face will still have glimpse of the teeny person whose face was placed next to mine- who changed my life forever. for Good.

You.

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