I gently wrap my finger around one of his curly, locks of hair. Reveling in the beauty & softness. I always wanted curls like these. Holding him tight, I wonder how I ever lived without these children. How I ever drew a single breath without thinking of them. That life, almost a distant memory in eight short years. I had no idea how much I could love before them. How open my heart would be for each & every one. Little fingers that hold onto my hand & heart.
Little bits of my heart for all to see. As with all joy, sometimes pain, a struggle. The struggle that makes it all worth it- fighting for happiness, perfection, joy. They came into this world through pain-pain and blood. I'd gladly do it over, ten fold for each. Loving them, means giving more than I think I have in me, at times. Finding each time that I have more than I thought to give. A total unrelenting, giving up of the "I" and becoming "we". Be my friend. Be my advocate. Be my nurse, my playmate, my confidant, my protector. My Mother. Security, happiness, love, my everything. Be Perfect. Be Whole. Be Strong.
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