Every Bride Needs Something Blue

Tales Of An Educated Debutante

on life, loss and the joy that rules the day.


The future is far away and scary, but today is lovely.

Adrian H. Wood, PhD

The Boy Who Made Me a Mother

The Boy Who Made Me a Mother

Wednesday, December 19, 2018 Adrian Wood Comments (0)

The Boy Who Made Me a Mother

It was you. I was instantly besotted by you, a dark headed son, five pounds, one ounce, nearly five weeks early. My heart would never be the same.

I cradled you in my arms and thought to myself, I can’t believe they’re going to just let us leave with him. For good reason, our big old furnace had run out of oil and so, we wrapped you in a fleece blanket and handed over a credit card to warm you that cold December day.

Jaundice, dehydration, my milk hadn’t come in and I didn’t know. How was I supposed to know? We stood watch over the tiny incubator and your first Christmas was spent beneath blue light.

Every two hours, I nursed you. Snippets of sleep were hard to come by, but you were my pot of gold.

You slept between daddy and me, cozy in a bright yellow sleep sack, and every so often, we would get a nice long stretch of four hours or so.

My dissertation beckoned me and so, the two of us hopped on a plane when you were just a month old. We headed south to your grandparents where, you were watched by Mamie, and I wrote and typed and rewrote and typed some more.

I loved you from the get go. That very second, I saw the double line on that stick, I fell head over heels and I never have recovered.

It was your existence that made me long for another and when your brother came along just a year and half later, big brotherhood suited you.

Your birth eclipsed my soul and made me wonder how I had lived so long and not known the depth of a mothering heart.

Happy 13th birthday, my son. Though I hope your dreams are big and your days are many, the earth has been made better for the gift of you.


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