March Forward, First

A birthday message for my youngest son.

When it came time for him to be born, I was well accustomed to the ways my body would shake and erupt. The third son to occupy and intend to vacate my womb in less than four years, I was the 23 year old mother of a three year old, an almost two-year-old, and, almost (yet already, I suppose) him. “You know how this happens,” people would joke, as my belly grew…