cw.

eight years ago, on a dark and rainy day, i became a mother. mw and i sat on the bed with our sweet, little boy and stared at him. he smelled better than any lilac bush in full bloom, better than any sugar cookie, hot from the oven. he smelled like softness and creamy, buttery, pink skin and everything that smells fantastic that you can't name, all wrapped into one perfectly round, warm, ball of mushiness. he sighed and yawned and coughed. the smallest noises i had ever heard. the hair on his head was wonderfully soft, almost furry, but like a delicious-cashmere-sweater-furry. the best furry i had ever felt. his eyes were blue and round and they looked at me like they'd seen me every day for the last nine months. only from a different angle, i suppose. his long, strong fingers would coil around mine, and each time my heart would open an little wider, just to let all the love in. or out. i'm not sure. i just know that i felt, in those first hours with cw and mw, as close to perfectly and beautifully content as i ever had before. and the more i reflect on those first moments and weeks and months, the more i realize what a blessing it was to be young and a little naive as a first time mother. i was simple. unaware. totally unaware that there were so many things to be afraid of. so many things that could go wrong. i, we, lived only in those moments of firsts. we revelled in them. i think our lives were so intricately woven with cw's in those early moments. there was no room for doubt or fear. only him. wonderful, beautiful, soft-earred, blue-eyed, him. happy birthday, my cw.