Words cannot describe how full my heart is with love for you, my first-born son. You spent nine months growing in the darkest of places and you were born at home with the sunlight filling the room. It was peaceful and quiet. I will never forget that rush of life I felt as you were born. I will never forget my midwife delivering your head and shoulders and telling me to reach down and take my baby. I caught you, my dear son! I, the woman who carried for the first nine months of your life. Mine were the first arms to hold you, to grasp you as my body pushed you into this world, to pull you up on my chest as the tears slid down my cheek and then I could, with wonder, look into your face and see this child who was so much a part of me. Your cries that filled the room were soon replace with quiet,
quick breaths as you breathed the air in this world so new to you. I had born a son. What pride I felt and what pride I saw reflected in your father's eyes. A son!
I love you fiercely, my son. It's a different love than that with which I love your sisters. I can't explain why it is different; it just is. You have captured, no, stolen my heart in a way I never thought a son would.
You smell wonderful, my baby. Your scent is intoxicating, and can somehow bring a calmness to me when I feel anxious. Your smile infectious and often brings tears of happiness to my eyes. Even when you wake at unpleasant hours of the morning, you melt my heart.
You are such a calm, content baby. You love to just sit on my lap and watch the goings-on of the day. Then you turn to look up at me and reach with your hands to touch my face. I see the love in your eyes and mine reflect it back. You smile and gurgle with glee as we share this moment.
I know the years will pass quickly and as you grow into a boy and a young man, our relationship will change again. But you will always be my first-born son and you will always have that special part of my heart. I love you, my Alex. I love you.