Dear :: Son
Happy due date, Dear Son. You’ve been given it to your Mama easy, Bud, and I gotta thank you for it. You’re my first “normal” baby- your sisters both had traumatic events, whether leaving or entering, and so far with you it’s been a nice flow and fairly predictable. You’re a quiet little fella who doesn’t cry much or for long and you seem pretty content hanging by yourself when you need to. It’s probably tougher being an infant than most of us think, considering you can’t do anything for yourself. I imagine that when you fuss and hear me whisper in your ear, “It’s okay, Bud. Mama’s got you” that you relax and know you’re cared for; I imagine that when I scoop you up and hold you close that you feel safe and understood; I imagine that when I wipe your bum and then finish the job with kisses on your cheeks and gentle words that you know all is done in love and that the unpleasant things aren’t a threat; I imagine …










