He is 13 today. My firstborn love. Luke Christopher.
He is the one who ushered me into the joy and chaos of Motherhood. The uber-special-mother-son bond began after an uneventful labor and one and a half hours of pushing through and pushing out. At 10:50 a.m. on a Tuesday morning he was given to me.
I will NEVER EVER forget the first moment I laid eyes on HIM. Awe. I still see it in black and white and it brings me chills.
And now that he is approaching the man-child phase, I am still in awe. Of his heart. His humor. His faith. His fierce older-brother-love for Ryan and Kate. His character that is still being shaped and formed. Well all of him is still being formed. I (we) have a few short years left to leave our marks, our impressions, our wisdom, and yes, our mistakes, upon him. But he may not remember those. Hopefully.
Being the firstborn has its special privileges. And had. He was read waaaay more books at bedtime than the other two. He was nursed/given breast milk for almost a year, which sounds like an eternity now. (We won’t talk about what the others got. No, not apple juice in their bottles.) He was declared a genius at 18 months when he called out “rhomboid” while doing a shapes puzzle. He was most certainly the most skilled soccer dribbler at age three in his tots class. He was so articulate at age 2 1/2, able to say cute prayers and sing along with Veggie Tales. Oh yeah, all mothers think their firsts are completely UH-mazing and unparalleled to others. We learn.
The Perfect First Child, though, was not an easy newborn. Luke didn’t read the book Babywise in utero and know that you go on a 3 hour feeding schedule after birth and sleep through the night at 9 weeks of age. He wouldn’t take a bottle till he was FORCED, i.e, me leaving for 8 hours while Chris suffered through. By the end of the day he sucked down two bottles of breast milk. And so began bottle feedings and a little freedom for me.
Despite all that…you fall in love with your baby, toddler, preschooler, elementary-schooler, and now, middle-schooler. You think about who he is and who he will be. And you also know he may be completely different as an adult and evolve in so many ways that he surprises you. The hope is that they are pleasant surprises.
My wish, my prayer, my hope for Luke is to have a rich, deep, intelligent and bold faith. That he discovers and follows his God-given passions and talents without apology. That he intimately knows God’s love for him and His faithfulness despite any hardships in life. I pray that he loves others with immense kindness and generosity and compassion. That he has men in his life who challenge him and encourage him to lead a life of integrity and authenticity.
And that he chooses the wife I want him to choose.
Oops, I have no control over that one. I was kidding. But I will pray and pray and pray he finds his soulmate and kindred spirit. And be willing to learn what it takes to be a giving, thoughtful, loving and wise husband. (Who lets his wife buy as many shoes and lip-glosses she wants…kidding again.)
Happy Birthday to my sweet Luke! I am so proud of you, and am so eager to see you grow into a young man.
Thank you for making me a mother. It is a joy and a privilege to be your mother.