Birthday Boy

Today my boy turned 3 years old. I thought I would be nostalgic and sentimental, but the truth is today was fine, fun and 100% happy. It was last night as I was tucking him in that I had my sentimental meltdown. I went back three years to the night before Jake was born. I remembered my huge swollen belly weighing me down and the delicious anticipation of knowing new life was soon to come, that I was going to be a mama. My friend came over to watch The Commitments, and I sat on the couch barely paying attention, savoring the sweet kicks against my belly knowing they would soon end. I wrote one last journal entry to my baby and tried to come to terms with that strange feeling of desperately wanting to meet my new baby and never wanting my pregnancy to end. Sounds crazy, right? I was about 600 pounds, my back ached, and I had all kinds of other discomforts that come with being gigantically pregnant and yet, I loved being pregnant and I loved knowing my baby was safe and so close to me. I wanted it to last forever.

Then he was born and oh, that was infinitely better then being pregnant.

Then three years passed.

And it's better still.

Happy birthday Jake!