I must have done something right to wake up to such joy.
Every morning, mid-morning, mid-night. Sometimes I don’t wake up because I haven’t really slept.
But it’s still a joy. A crazy, mad, possessive, proud, vulnerable, terrified, awesome love that I feel for my son.
Until I had him, I didn’t know so many shades of pure unadulterated love even existed.
To say he’s the apple of my eye, my reason for living, my heartbeat; sounds shallow and superficial in comparison to what emotions rage inside this mother’s soul.
Son, know that you are loved beyond words. Yes, even at 3am.