Dearest Max,
This is the truth.
This is the way things happened today.
Throughout the morning I gave you the countdown from five years ago:
You were still inside my body and Mommy and Daddy were in the tub.
Finally it was time to push you out, and I roared like a lion.
I had to get out of the tub, and the midwives helped me to the bed.
At 11:11 you came out of my body and the midwife held you up. I didn’t know who you were until that moment. When I saw you, suddenly I knew you and I exclaimed, “It’s a boy! I love my baby boy!”
And then I had to explain happy tears to you, because there you were eating lunch after building Lego trucks and playing putt putt golf with your little brother, and I have been there to witness every single moment of your incredible life. Mother’s Day always dances around your birthday and some years it even tangles up, which is fine by me because your birthday marks the day I became a mother. You made me a mom and I will always be astonished and grateful for that. All of this wells up inside me and spills out as tears, smiles, kisses, and wistful looks that see past, present, and future at once.
Fifteen minutes later we head to school to tell the world, your class, that you are five. On Friday I told you that you would never go to school as a four year-old again. You are beyond excited. You are the last in your class to turn five. As I drive the commute I have come to loathe, we pass by the House of Babies, the birthplace of you, your brother, our family and in so many ways, even myself. We blow kisses and wonder if another baby is being born there today.
Right now. At this moment.
As we wait for your teacher, another mom rushes towards us and asks us if we’ve seen the sun today. There is a rainbow circling it. We call you over and the brightness is blinding, but I share my sunglasses because you have to see it.
There is a rainbow around the sun, exactly five years after the moment you were born only a few blocks away from the place where you were born.
This is the truth.
There is poetry in this world. There are mystical birthday presents from the universe. There is joy which cries.
All of this is for you, my darling boy.
And this magical day began in darkness, when you were invited to cuddle with your parents inside our bed, and you matched my fingers and then your father’s.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
A whole hand!
We are just as proud and as stunned as we were five years ago the moment you entered our lives:
my son, my sun.
All my love, all your life,
Mama
