A long f word with alotta repeated letters.
And that’s how I’d sum up motherhood, or this brief beginning I’ve been granted.
What an incredible year it’s been with you, my son. And with this woman I’ve discovered living under my skin. Some days I’m asking how the hell I got here from positive pregnancy test to dropping you off at school. What a wonder you are and how striking it is to watch you grow and manage things on your own already.
I remember promising that we’d look over your favorite creek and teach you everything we know in return for everything you will teach us. And we have. Or we are. Nothing seems linear these days—just a freight train on the gleaming track of life.
At one point I was just referring to you as “baby wegner”, which is so bizarre now that I know who you are. Expecting comes with this unprecedented amount of fear of losing yourself, your faith, your ability to be…just of loss.