Seven years ago, with Hollywood Boyfriend Jeremy Renner by my side, I brought Dubya into this world. It wasn’t an easy task. 28 hours of labor. Back and hip labor. Being cut through three layers to ease Dubya’s entrance into this world. A vacuum extraction. And a sweet little boy with a collapsed lung, fighting to breathe. I got to touch his little fingers and then he was taken to the NICU room that would be his home for the next five days.
This is the first time I ever held my Dubya. He was 3 days old. And it took away all the pain of that 28 hours of labor.
Dubya is my first-born, my son, my baby, my boy, my fighter, my smile. He is my buddy. He has a tender-heart and sensitivities that are sometimes beyond my comprehension. He looks exactly like his daddy. He is so smart. He is soulful. He is sweet. He loves his sister fiercely, even when she is ruining his life. He tells silly jokes. He doesn’t like to eat.
I love this boy. I love his shenanigans. I love his wit. I love the adventures we have together and his willingness to still hold my hand in public. Well, he does some of the time.
I love that I am his mother. I don’t know what I have ever done to deserve him, but if all it took was 28 hours of agony for a lifetime of living with this kid, I’d do it over and over again.