Something changed in me at that moment. I somehow knew that my life would be different forever. I had never before felt this kind of love, this special mother love. I was overwhelmed with emotion.
Kurt and I were both weary, but the joy and excitement that accompanied our gift from heaven kept us both awake into the wee hours. We called family and friends, announcing the birth and giving all of the important details, including our little boy's name, which we had kept a secret from everyone. Finally we slept, waking to feed our little one, and then sleeping again.
Over the coming days, weeks, and months, I would learn that motherhood often means sacrifice and self-denial, particularly when it came to sleep and getting a shower. But I didn't really mind. I was smitten with this new little person. He became the center of my days, and I looked forward to getting up in the night to feed and hold him. Each morning when I would wake up and get him from his crib I felt like a child opening a Christmas present.
The months and years passed, and the baby grew into a toddler, then into a little boy. Now he is eight, and what I have known would happen all along, is quickly becoming evident. He is growing up. In a few short years, he'll no longer be a boy, but a young man. It makes me happy and sad at the same time.
When he was five, he gave his heart to Jesus, and this gave his Daddy and me as much joy as did his birth. As he grows older, I see God at work in his life, growing his young heart and mind closer to Him. For this I am abundantly thankful.
Tonight my heart is full with love, with memories, and with gratefulness to God for all of our children and for the privilege of being their mother.
Happy Birthday, Superman!