Happy Birthday my Prince!

birth 8





My Dear Luka

I can’t believe that you are 11 today.  The time has gone by so quickly and it seems almost unreal.   God willing, I will have 8 more years with you under my roof – that’s just not enough time.

1 November 2001 I went to the doctor to get some medicine for my “flu”, only to be told it would take nine months to get rid of the flu.  I remember the first day I saw your heart beat on that sonar screen.  I remember the tiny flutter movements as you first started to move.  It feels like yesterday that I could feel you kick the living daylights out of my lungs, trying to make space for your busy, busy legs.

I remember being so afraid when they first brought you to me, I didn’t think I would ever know how to be a mom for you.  I can still feel your tiny toes curl around my upper lip as I kissed the soles of your feet, the heel barely touching the bottom of my chin.  I remember you sleeping, drooling milky spit all over me and I couldn’t care less.

I remember you running on wobbly legs to meet me after work, throwing your arms around my neck. I remember when you first said, I love you mommy.  I remember when you first fell and hurt yourself so bad you were bleeding – I cried more than you!  I remember your first day at crèche and your first day at school.  I remember the first time you had a crush on a girl and I thought “Just let that little lady break your heart!  I’ll show her a thing or two!”  I remember the first time you went away for a weekend.

Now you pull away when I want to hold your hand as we cross the road.  Instead you bravely put out your arm to shield me from traffic.  What happened to the time?

My angel, I know you are growing up (way too fast).  I know you are wise way beyond your years and your sensitive soul reaches out to all of those you meet.  I wish I could protect you and always hold you close.  I wish I could shield you from everything that is bad in this world.  But I can’t.

You will grow up to be a fantastic man.  You will grow up and have your own experiences, good and bad.  You will find someone who you will love with all your heart.  One day, you will have your own children to look at and love.

Whatever the future holds for you, just know one thing:

I love you more than I could ever explain and I will always be there, no matter what happens.  I thank God for you every single day.

Happy birthday, my angel.  May the year ahead be filled with all that is good and may your days bring nothing but joy.

I love you forever.

Author: nanuschka

I am a free spirit born in the Free State, 20 years to late. I am Ying and Yang. I am the girl next door who prefers daisies and peace rallies, but can just as easily rock at a rally. I love all things Latin and am sure that in my previous life (if that existed) I was Spanish. The dark side of me, however, tells me that I lived in Mother Russia. I am an over thinker par excellence , in constant search of answers to all things that makes us human. What we do and, more importantly, why we do it. I hope you enjoy my rambles and would love to hear from you. If you like it here, please come back, comment and share. If not, let me not waste another second of your time. All I ask is that you respect my space, be constructive and leave negativity at the door. There is enough of that in this world we live in and yes, in my head too sometimes. Not everything here will be liked or agreed with. Some of it will be downright rude, crazy and straight forward. Not everyone will like me and what goes on in my head, but this is my life and my space. Enjoy the ride

4 thoughts on “Happy Birthday my Prince!”

Say something, you know you want to!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.