This little man who was my first. Who answered so many prayers and yearnings and heartaches and hopes and dreams.
Who entered my physical world after I knew him for so long as only flutters, bumps and constant movements big and small... after knowing only his heartbeat and outline and stubborn reluctance to be born. Who entered my physical world and in a gasp and tiny cry flipped everything upside down.
Who changed me. Who unapologetically, unequivocally, unabashedly changed everything I thought I knew. About love. About being a mother. About myself.
This boy who entered the world so seriously, with such old eyes and so wise a soul that his name changed instantly upon meeting him. This boy called Ezra.
This boy with his reluctant baby smiles and reserved baby giggles, but his content and good-natured attitude nonetheless. He, more than anyone and anything else makes me question my world.
Not only because he questions everything himself, searching for answers not easily obtained, but because the very make up of this boy - this serious, earnest, sensitive, inquisitive, brilliant, analytical, literal, boy - is as much a foreign object to me as Saturn or the murky and unattainable depths of bottomless ocean trenches.
He and I, it seems, were not cut from the same cloth.
This logical, stuck in his head, too small for his big ideas and big thinking and big emotions boy. Our cloth, as they say, is as different as two cloths could be. Burlap and satin. Silk and denim. Chiffon and felt.
But it doesn't really matter, not at all. Because through the differences and locked horns, the head-scratching and questioning, he's still my first.
And there's something special about that. About being the first to clutch my heart in a way no one else could. Being the first to say my calling instead of my name - "mama" instead of "Kim." Being the first to cry and smile and laugh and hug and reach out for me. Maybe he feels like a tough guy now. But he was the first to truly need me.
I captured just enough of that quirky, silly side which emerges every so often to help you rest at ease.
For comparison sake, I've included a few pictures from previous years.
When he was, perhaps, a little more quick with his smile.
But you don't know it. Not really.