I miss him.
I would give my dying breath to kiss that little cheek and rock him to sleep just one more time.
Fourteen years ago when I found I was pregnant with my second child I prayed daily (sometimes hourly) for this one just to love me. Jacob was (still is) a difficult little soul and it was apparent from day one that he despised me. I don't really know what happened there, maybe it was the three weeks in the NICU or maybe it was my mom who swooped in his first night home and glued herself to him and I just let her because I was so very tired and so very unequipped to deal with the incessant screaming like I probably should have been. Maybe I was (am)a bad mother? I have been in therapy for years to answer that question to which I will likely never have the answer. I have just had to make peace with it and move on.
Anyway, this isn't about Jacob, this is about Adam.
OK....I just wanted a baby to love me and, BOY, did this baby love me. He would have nothing to do with anyone else. He would push his little hand out if another adult tried to take him. He clung to my leg while I cooked meals and crawled into my lap any time I sat down. He didn't say much those first four years but he didn't need to: Adam LOVED me.
I shouldn't put such a burden on a child but Adam was my redemption. He proved to everyone, if really only myself, that I could be a good mother. He saved me. It really wasn't until he was born that I began to feel like a mom, giving love and receiving love in return. I LOVE Adam.
With the teenage years upon us things aren't as sweet as they used to be but there is no mistaking his love continues. He is always grateful if I do something for him (like bring his track uniform to school AGAIN) and he has learned the very difficult skill of saying and showing he is sorry when needed. Although he will no longer hug his sister at school, he does oblige her one when they get home every day (usually). He always tells me he loves me when he leaves the house (or vice versa). He teaches the neighborhood kids football plays and includes the often shunned Muslim kid down the street. He sees no color, no religion, no social class.
In school he plays football, runs cross country and track, and was appointed an office aide for one class period which requires positive teacher recommendations. He makes As and Bs completely without my help and input. He has figured out his complete four year path that will allow him to attend his dream school: Texas A&M. He has many friends, I can barely keep track of them all. Giggly girls show up at our door asking for him, Elizabeth says they follow him down the hallway at school. So far Fortnite and Madden 19 have most of his attention, but he does sit with one particular girl on the bus every day, according to my accidental spy.
Adam turned 14 on January 23. It's taken this long to write this because there is always something. I am so blessed to be able to raise this child. I pray now daily that all of his dreams come true, that he has friends, becomes successful, is HAPPY.
Thank you God for answering my prayers and giving me THIS loving little baby.
Happy Birthday Adam!