Becoming Mom

Last week my son turned 15.

It was a low-key birthday for him. He had school all day and indoor percussion group rehearsal all evening. He had homework. His dinner was one of time-constrained convenience. His main birthday gift (sweet vintage hi-hat and ride cymbals for his drumset!) arrived a couple of days afterward.

Even though there wasn't even a proper cake in this house, I whipped up a batch of chocolate chip brownies, per his request. The three of us grabbed a few minutes to light a candle, sing and nosh before the day was over.

Though it doesn't sound like all that much fun, he managed to carve out a great day. After all, it was his day. Like all teens, he digs the mystique of getting older. Family and friends wished him well and paid attention to him for that very reason. Cards arrived via post, many included a little something special in the form of gift cards or cash - both his favorites right now. It was a special day for him.

That day last week was not about me  - my own birthday is just a couple of weeks away - and yet, I mark the day as significant.

It's the anniversary of the most important day of my life.

As much as I love my husband - and I truly do - on that day 15 years ago, I was introduced to love as I'd never known it. It's the kind of attachment born of sacrifice, blood, pain and fear. I will spare you the details of my delivery day, but I will say that it was medically complicated for me and took a rapid turn toward serious just after my son's arrival. The quick actions of the medical staff and my doctor in those moments ensured that I am sitting here at this keyboard today and I am forever grateful for that.

But there would be no more pregnancies or deliveries; no more children in this house. This was enough.

Giving birth to that boy 15 years ago didn't automatically give me purpose or grant me patience or make me wiser. It did, however, set me on the path to those things with a less-than-self-serving motivation I hadn't previously known.

[Aside: I have not yet arrived at those destinations]

I was forever changed for the better 15 years ago.

Of course, I was not the only one changed that day. My husband found the role he was meant to play as hands-on partner and loving dad. I never had a loving father figure in my life and one of my greatest joys has been to bear witness to the great relationship and friendship between the two people I love most.

My husband never forgets what the day means for me. Every year on our son's birthday, he gives me a small bouquet of flowers.

Men: give your wives flowers on your children's birthdays. And teach your sons to do this for their mothers and, eventually, their own wives.

But like I said, the day was not about me. It came and went in a blink, much like the years themselves. The baby born that day is now a teen. The earliest days of his life are ones he will never remember.

And they are the days I will never forget.