Dear Alex

Dear Alex,

A couple of months ago your father asked me how I viewed you. I replied, "I still look at him as our friend, he's just hanging out with us until he can take care of himself." Clearly I was trying to be funny, but there was more truth than comedy to my answer. Motherhood did not happen to me overnight, it had to mentally grow on me.

Over the past few months I've been surprised by the tenderness that has come over you. The sleepless nights, colic and crying has been replaced by sweet giggles, loving hugs and drooly kisses. My heart swells just thinking about it. What I find most riveting is the way that you look at me. The way that you cry inconsolably until you reach the comfort and safety of my arms. The way that your face lights up and legs kick with excitement when I walk into a room. It's more than a friendship. Somewhere along the way we fell madly in love with each other and that love has only deepened and from what I understand this bond is irreversible.

From time to time my mind revisits the days when we were in the hospital together, you know back when you were just my friend. The days when I would cradle you in my arms for hours on end as you slept contently. I studied your newborn features, your luminescent porcelain skin, downy strands of black hair, full cheeks and tender rosy lips. I recall trying very hard to permanently etch your face in my brain. Those memories replay for me like a sweet ending to a movie, like one where incredible triumph has been succeeded after a long hard fought journey, only this was just the beginning for us.

Lately I find myself thinking about those days more often and I get frustrated that I can't remember the details as well and I worry that in a few months that I won't remember the sweet memories that I am recording right now. I barely recall echoes of the way you cried and the squeaky rubber duck noises you made. And I wouldn't believe how tiny you once were if it were not for your hospital shirt that I secretly clutch in my nightstand. So I work hard to keep those details close to my heart even as they become progressively elusive like old photographs faded by the sun's exposure.

I'm not sure when it clicked for me that you are my son. But somewhere along the way our relationship transcended the definitional terms of mother and child and it became cemented in mind that no matter what happens in life we will be bonded forever.

Love,

MOM