I'm not entirely sure how we got from here
For better or worse, you're my mini me, and lately you're showing me how that's true in the better ways instead of the ... less desirable ways. Your bright smiles as you say "Mommy!" excitedly when I open your bedroom door never stop making my heart skip a beat, and the random hugs and I love yous and giggles as you make eye contact with me and sparkle, those are the things I'm still not completely convinced I deserve but damn am I lucky to get them regardless.
Four years ago today, I underwent one of the most harrowing experiences of my short life, and for the next eight days I was simply a shell of who I thought I was, completely shocked by the events that surrounded our physical separation.
It wouldn't be the last time I felt that way, but we'll get to that in due time.
Four years ago today you came into my life in a flurry of drama, a bitty 6 lbs 12 and 1/2 oz of pure fight and bewilderment, and you really haven't stopped being either of those things since.
It took two days for it to sink in that I was your mom and to hold you when you cried without medical staff supervision. But once I did, well, I knew we belonged to each other in a way that's beyond words or explanation. Just that there you were, my little Pisces boy, and my world was never going to be the same.
Someday we'll talk about the hard stuff that surrounds these events, the things that made it so hard for you and I to mesh the way that other moms and babies do, but for now, now I am grateful for the connections we have formed, the hard-fought bonds that you and I both work at strengthening every day because we are more than just mother and son, we are survivors, you and I, warriors against everything everyone has ever told us we couldn't do and our shared battles both won and lost are a deeper, more air tight connection than most could even begin to grasp.
So I'll take it. And you. Because you are perfectly mine, myself reincarnated with new hopes and new challenges and new sight on the beauty in this world and to be able to watch that through you is the single greatest adventure of my life.
Just ... promise me that what some people say is true, that once you hit four it gets a little easier, eh? Because you and your sister these last couple of years are exactly why I plucked a completely WHITE eyebrow hair from my left arch the day before my 29th birthday and had to reign myself in with every iota of willpower that remains after parenting you two all day to not just strip down naked and start running through the streets yelling JUMANJI! because I just have nothing close to sanity left.
So, four means easier, yes? Please? I don't want to start dying my eyebrows now, too. That's just ridiculous.
I love you, Duder, more than I'll ever be able to tell you. But that will never ever stop me from trying.
Happy fourth birthday. Let's make this year the best one yet.