Tomorrow is your birthday. It is the day that you legally become an adult. This time 18 years ago, I knew I was going into the hospital to have you. I couldn’t feel you moving and went to my doctor’s office. She sent me home saying that everything was fine but she would see me at 7 am for an induction.
Your father and I came home and ordered Chinese food; I wonder if that has anything to do with why you like it so much. I stayed home to call everyone and tell them that you were coming tomorrow. While I was making phone calls, dad went to get the food, and on his way back a new driver rear-ended him. It was no big deal and everyone was fine, but I was so upset. I remember thinking how terrible the person was that would hit someone who was about to have a baby. Tonight, I am thinking that young driver was probably you or your sibling’s age and how much my perspective has shifted about who really had it worse in that fender bender.
I remember not being able to sleep. I was scared that something was wrong because you were not moving nearly as much, I was scared that everything between your dad and I would change and we wouldn’t be us anymore, and I was really scared that I might not love you. We had such a tough time together during pregnancy and I didn’t trust my capacity to love my family, my friends, your dad, and still have room in my heart left to give to you.
Looking back on that night 18 years ago, there are so many thoughts, but the main one is how silly I was to think that I ever had to worry about loving you. You who showed me how to love unconditionally, you who taught me there is good in everyone, and you who remind me every day that the purpose to all our lives is to love.
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