I have this song on repeat in my head right now. Does anyone remember that song by Anita Baker, “You Bring Me Joy”? It was one of my favorite songs growing up and I remember my mom dancing around the house drinking wine and singing it. Sometimes she would kiss me on top of my head while she was singing and then stare at me in the eyes and make me feel as if she was only singing it to me. I think, as an adult, that Anita Baker was singing it to her husband, boyfriend, man-friend, but I completely understand as a mom now how you could take a song like that and sing it passionately to your child. I have four children, and I love them all equally, but admittedly I look at my son, my only son, and I say, "you bring me joy."
Birthing my son was not easy, and I know a lot of women can relate. Whether the struggle of getting pregnant, having a miscarriage, or miscarriages plural, to having his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and then needing an emergency C-section, I look at my son and say, "that took a lot, dude." My body went from one phase to another, and although I never regret having my kid, I do have to look at myself every day in the mirror and remember that he was once inside of me and had to get cut out.
Way too visual but all too real.
I also look at my son and say, "We've come a long way." At 14 years old, I can't imagine what my life would be without him, but the same time I know that his time in our house is limited. He's getting so big so fast. He's almost taller than my husband. They wear the same size shoe and he actually has bigger hands.
It creeps me out a little bit as I look at pictures from all around the house of when he was little, but I guess I knew him that he would one day grow up to be a fine young man and I would have to eventually let him go and spread his own wings. My son is named after me, or better yet, my dad. His name is Kerry, K-E-R-R-Y. My dad's name was Kerry, K-E-R-R-Y. And I'm Keri, K-E-R-I. This all matters because not only do we all share the same name, we were all born at the same exact weight, 7 pounds, 12 ounces. Weird, huh?
I've always looked at my son and said, "You have no idea what it took to get you here. You have no idea how badly I wanted you. And you have no idea what I would do for you to thrive in this world." My son continues to bring me joy. Yes, occasionally he's a headache (he is a teenager) But when I look at him and I look into his eyes, I hear this Anita Baker song on repeat. I may even grab a glass of wine tonight and sing to him, kiss him on his head and just let him know how much I love him.
