He is moving away from me, his own tiny self out into the world. Pride and grief, worry and thrill all churning inside as I look down at his peaceful face, pressed into the pillow, limbs curled in and hair smashed up on end.
His life is less and less about me, as my own is hardly about my parents at all. These are his days, his struggles and triumphs, his thoughts and experiences, his memories and meaning.
This is now his story.
It is no longer the story of me and my baby, me as a mom. Sure, that's still part of my own story, but now there is another story out there, a new story, a different story than has ever been. And I get to be an accessory in this new story, a supporting cast member. I get to watch it unfold and marvel as he becomes.
Who ever knew this would be so hard and so wonderful?
He Was Brave Today.
Afraid and excited and brave in the way brave is really brave - feeling scared and doing it anyway. He was strong and honest and real. My boy.