You kicked and squirmed, I shifted uncomfortably and smiled at my big belly.
I sweat, I cried, I pushed, you pulled.
I squeezed my eyes and clenched my teeth, you saw the light for the first time.
We saw each other and we cried.
I pulled you close and you held on tight.
I talked, you nuzzled—drinking your fill.
You cried the first night, I was weak, Daddy’s arms were strong.
I learned, you taught, we got to know each other.
You needed me, I needed sleep, we were tired.
You laughed, and I understood pure joy.
You rolled over and turned my world upside down.
On all fours you moved away from me, and I scrambled to catch up.
In a high-pitch voice you said “Mama” and I came running.
You looked for “Dada” to come home, and I was just as eager.
You pulled yourself up, and I caught you when you fell (almost always).
You went to sleep a baby and woke up a toddler.
You are one. You are smart. You are sweet. You are brave, and we love you.