Happy Birthday - How Long Have You Loved Me?

“Mommy, when did you first know that you loved me?”

I’m pounding the keyboard, wrestling with the nuances of a difficult phrase, when my youngest child’s query pierces the affected armor I wear to ward off family interaction while I write. Something about her question interrupts the perfect connection between brain and fingers and I’m forced to stop typing. The words I sought are gone, leaving me to consider her justifiable request.

Just when did I first know that I loved her? Was it when I held her in my arms and she bawled, purple face scrunched, angry and indignant at being forced from the warm dark safety of my womb into the cold drafty openness of the world? Was it when her hungry perfect mouth latched onto my nipple and suckled, causing a warm and wonderful, painful yet sweet contraction in my lower belly? Was it when I caught a glimpse of her acrobatic fetal form twirling inside of me, captured for a precious moment on the ultrasound screen?

Could it have been when the doctor insisted on an amniocentesis and a dark feral shadow of fear crept across my conscious at the thought that something might be wrong with the tiny one forming within my belly? Or maybe it was when the office called and declared that she was a girl?

Was it when the pregnancy test confirmed my suspicions that an act of absolute loving passion had resulted in conception, a conception both of us wanted with all our hearts and every fiber of our being?

Or did I first start loving her when I was a girl making dream plans of how my family would turn out, with two boys and two girls, and maybe more? I’d dress my dolls and tell them how much Mommy loved them and how I’d always yearned for a daughter just like me, even though I was barely eight and didn’t yet know who I was.

I think it must have been much earlier than that. I believe in the pre-existence when all the spirits were whispering excitedly about where they’d be sent and what their lives would be like, I think she and I were dear friends. We loved one another then and promised that we’d find each other in the physical realm. Time without end, without beginning, always present since Creation.

“I’ve loved you since the stars were set and the moon was hung, my darling.”

“Good, because that’s how long I’ve loved you, Momma.”