Happy Birthday Pickle

My Sweet Boy,

As I press your marshmallow soft body close to my chest and accept your sloppy kiss and enthusiastic embrace, my heart swells with love. Can it be possible that earth has already circled the sun since we first met? I remember that day, your birthday, with flawless clarity. You surprised us. I didn’t expect you to wait until the predicted arrival, but I also didn’t think you would greet us a little more than three-weeks before that date.

Trembling, I strained forward anxious to meet you, my newest love. The tips of my fingers barely touched your dark, matted hair before you were whisked away for measurements. You were so quiet. I feared your silence meant you were not well and I kept asking your daddy if he could see you. He and the nurses told me that you were perfectly healthy. After your weight was announced as six pounds, four ounces, you escaped the “preemie” label. Finally, I cradled your tiny body in my wanting arms.

How ironic it is that you will never remember a day that I will never forget. Happy Birthday to you, my precious Pickle. I love you; and I thank God that He chose me to be your mother.

For you created me in my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. Psalm 139:13 (NIV)