I remember the joy of the two lines, light at first but slowly darker with each day, promising our new little arrival.
The whispered prayers and clasped hands that this baby would stay with us, that our hearts wouldn’t break again.
I drank a Coke every day to keep the nausea at bay, and we read the books, and my husband placed a hand on my belly, feeling our son kick.
He was born in the dark quiet of the early morning and we marveled at his blonde hair, his 10 toes, his beautiful name.
There were countless nights of pacing the floors with a crying baby, warming bottles, and falling asleep on the floor next to a baby swing.
There was that moment when I pushed my son on a swing for the first time, and his smile ripped my heart wide open in the best way possible.
He defied me and pushed boundaries and colored on my walls. He pulled all of the clothes from the dresser, and let the dog out the front door too many times to count, and he’d laugh as I chased her with dog biscuits.
He said “Hi, moon!” one night with a finger pointed to the sky, and I cried right there on our front porch for that little voice we so desperately longed to hear.
He ran towards his preschool class, lunchbox and lovey in hand, with only a small kiss blown my way.
He’s my baby, but he’s not anymore, and this journey has been terrifying and rewarding and so full of love I never expected.
I cannot wait to do it all over again.
So well done, Coke. Bravo to your marketing team. You nailed it. You spoke to the perfect struggle, joy, pain, and triumph of parenting.
**Me drinking a Coke each day is completely true, not sponsored in any way. It was the only way I kept from throwing up every afternoon.
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