One year ago today, at 6:32 pm exactly, my baby boy Simeon was born. The first thing I thought when I saw him was "He's wonderful!" You may believe that to be a standard reaction to a new born baby by it's mother, but in my case that is not true. My first thought about Malachi was "He's big!" (which is ironic because at 7 lbs 12 oz, he was the smallest of my babies, but since he was the first one, I didn't know that). And, I'm sorry to say, but my first thought about Israel was, "He's different...." If you've seen all my boys, you know it's true of him. He doesn't really look like either Aaron or me, or his brothers. We've even joked about the hospital accidentally switching him at birth, but I told Aaron that even if it were true I wouldn't care. I've had him this long, he's mine now, and because of more than blood.
On a day like this I feel a fierce love for my boys. It's a tangled sort of love, all intertwined with other emotions like pride, anger, joy, and frusteration. I look at their existance with wonder, and yet I take it for granted more often than not. I enjoy their rambling conversations as much as I am irritated by them. I am proud of their strength and wildness, and at the same time, I find it trying and exhausting. I love them with all my heart...and at the same time no one makes me angrier than they do.
But this is what I know to be true: because of them, my life is full.