A year ago, on a chilly November night, at 12:20 am, my water broke. They say labor isn’t like the movies-water breaking without prior contractions, a quick, speedy labor with lots of screaming, but mine was exactly that. At 3:56 am, we welcomed the most beautiful boy, Leo Emerson.
Short and sweet, strong and steady.
Latin for lion, the name of great popes, soccer players, writers, actors, and activists. The name of my late great grandfather.
8lbs, 5 oz.
We prayed for the life this little boy would have. That he would know love and feel loved, that he would grow strong and courageous, that he would live a life of adventure and purpose, and never doubt his worthiness or belonging in this world.
Of all the things my hands have held, of all the things my eyes have seen, of all the things my heart has felt, the best by far is you.
This year has been filled with indescribable joy. Our son is healthy, happy, and loves to laugh. He is kind and sweet and loves to give kisses with a mouth wide open. He sleeps 12 hours at night, will eat anything and everything, and loves to be held. He is curious, always observing, playing. He is the fastest crawler I’ve ever seen, loves to take baths, and loves to talk and cuddle his penguin. He has 8 teeth, and can walk 5 steps at a time. And he is the best damn gift I’ve ever been given.
I love being a mom, and I love being Leo’s mom.
It is better than I ever could’ve imagined, sweeter than I could’ve dreamt, more beautiful than I could’ve ever thought.
Here we are, exactly a year later, another chilly November night. They say life is not like the movies-a perfectly healthy and happy family, lots of adventures and laughs and fun, only the good stuff, but right now, mine is exactly that.
Happy Birthday, my little Leo.