Eleven years ago today, I became a mother for the second time.  There were so many things I didn’t know at the time.

I didn’t know that this tiny baby would steal my heart so completely that I would never entirely get it back.

I didn’t know that two years later this sweet boy would hit his head so hard that I’d panic.  I didn’t know what it would feel like to watch his eyes roll back and see his breath stop.  Before that moment, I would’ve thought I’d maintain my cool, be level-headed, and take action.  Instead I screamed and yelled for help and it was my neighbor’s realtor who called 911.

I didn’t know that he’d be completely fine after an event like that, but I’d never fully recover.

I couldn’t have known, on that day I spent in labor, that when this child grew older he would be so tender, so careful with younger kids.

There was no indication, that day, that this new baby boy would develop an intense love for a sport his father and I rarely glanced at, until his love for it drew us in, too.

I couldn’t have known what an adoring little brother he’d be.  I didn’t know then how his status as second-born would influence his personality.  He is a peacemaker, this boy.

On that day eleven years ago, I knew I had some tiring months coming up.  I knew I’d be waking several times a night and slogging through my days with an infant and a 2 year old.  But I didn’t know that some days and nights would be infinitely slow and that occasionally they would drag me down with them, into the ugly pits of self-pity, doubt, and second guesses.

And I certainly could not have guessed that no matter how painfully slow some of those days were, that the years would fly by like this and suddenly you’d be halfway to all grown-up.

I should be happy today.  I should be singing and yelling “Happy Birthday!” and soon enough, I will.  But as I think back through these years with you, my tender-hearted boy, I keep choking up and the tears keep coming.  If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times:  I didn’t get to pick you, but if I could have, I’d pick you again.  Every single time.

I love you baby.  So much.  Happy Birthday.