To the Moon and Back. Happy birthday, my darling.

Wednesday, June 1, 2005. 9:45 p.m.

Approximately 38 weeks and 15 hours after it started, it was finally over. My pregnancy had ended and my journey into motherhood had begun. The room was abuzz with excitement and exhaustion. People were talking to me, but it wasn’t registering. Then my 8 lbs., 2 oz. baby boy was placed in my arms, and my world changed forever. He was sweating with fever, his big, beautiful eyes squinting with his screams.

My body went numb at the sight of him. Sometimes it still does. He still takes my breath away. I am still trying my best to comprehend how I could possibly ever deserve this remarkable, wonderful child.

Tomorrow he turns 6 years old. He has the same big beautiful, knowing eyes and a bigger smile. Two of his bottom baby teeth are gone, and the teeny body that they once told me was on the “lower average weight percentile” compared to his peers, is now solid and adorably chubby.

Those who have met my oldest son know that he is special, in ways that exceed a mother’s own biased perceptions. The child who I once feared and felt so helpless over and never quite forgave myself for not instantly connecting with…I now sit up at night to watch him sleep and hear him breathe. In the morning, he comes alive with curiosity, wild giggling, insightfulness and compassion. He equalizes the mood in the room and befriends those who need it most. His kindness is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

He radiates love and light, and I hope that he will do so for as long as the universe lets him. And I hope I get to bask in that light for as long as the universe lets me.

He keeps my world spinning.

Happy birthday, my love. Enjoy love, life and the animals in the clouds. I love you to the moon and back.