top of page

To my first born on his birthday

Twenty-one years ago, you arrived in this world and transformed me into a mother; A role for which, despite reading every baby book ever, I was wholely unprepared. Although your father and I teased you over the years that we picked you up from the Kid Store (on sale!) I'm ready to tell you the true story now.

I knew I was pregnant the moment you were conceived. Your father had to wait about six weeks for confirmation. I opted to not tell anyone in the first trimester because that is when most miscarriages occur, however, I was working as a freight pilot and my coworkers figured it out when I stopped bumming smokes from them. I continued to fly until my flight physician grounded me out of concern for the possible effects of solar radiation to which you might be exposed at high altitude. At that point, I volunteered at the local Children's Museum typing marketing information into their computer system just to keep myself from going insane with boredom until you arrived.

That's not to say being pregnant with you was boring. Nothing could be further than the truth. At work, you were my freightpup and I carried you nearly 9 miles above the Earth. At home, I read aloud and sang to you, tracked your development, took supplements, and dreamed of the day I would finally meet you.

You were a feisty thing. You kicked a lot. Ultimately, that fighting spirit would serve you well, but never so much as when you were born prematurely at 3 pounds 4 ounces. While carrying you, I developed preeclampsia. Your growth slowed. One day in my 35th week of pregnancy, I went to my doctor with blurry vision, headaches, and nausea, and he admitted me immediately.

Then came the intricate timing of keeping you inside as long as possible to help develop your lungs but deliver you (the only treatment) before my preeclampsia progressed to seizures, stroke, or liver damage in me. When the time came that you had to be cut from my womb, I only saw you briefly before you were whisked away to the NICU and I was moved to Recovery. It was nearly a day before I first held you against my chest, skin to skin, and wept with the joy of finally meeting you.

Since then, I have watched you grow into an intelligent, generous, and brave young man, and I could not be more proud of you and who you have become. But nothing will ever compare with that moment 21 years ago when I first held you and my heart was whole again.

I hope that the next chapter of your life is filled with extraordinary experiences, loving connections, and successful endeavors beyond your wildest dreams.

Happy birthday, my son. Love you forever.


12 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

My Purple Reign

Authors note: This article originally published by GenXWatch No other era was influenced by Prince more than the 80s. Nine gold, platinum, or multiplatinum albums that included 1999 (1982), Purple Rai


bottom of page