Ode to Rowan

You were created on April 11.

Who could have known something so perfect would spark life on that blessed Friday?

I remember that day. I remember the phone call, my love.

You were one of the six.

We pieced you together, Rowan. What a stunning puzzle you are.

Our masterpiece. You are so beautiful. How did I get you? How did I find your Mary piece? How did I become so very lucky?

I love you. You are my joy, Rowan.

I ask loved ones, “Does she know I’m her mommy?”

They say yes, and I know it’s true. I just like to hear them say it.

I could not have created something so remarkable if I tried. Thank you Jesus.

Her eyes are HUGE. They look grey – perfect. Her button nose and its rosiness. Her lashes are noticeably long – not the norm for a peaches and cream ginger. Speaking of which, her complexion …

She is flawless.

She looks pretty in pink. She really does; it’s perfect.

I mustn’t begin to describe her temperament; I’m drowning in love.

Dainty with spunk. She’s my petite princess.

My flower.

My everything.


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