DID YOU PUSH HARD, MOM?

The kids played as I sipped my morning coffee.  The television droned in the background.  I breathed a sigh, gathered my belongings, put on my coat and told Daxx that we needed to leave for his psychiatrist appointment.  He brought his shoes over to me so I could help him put his feet into the floppy Converse. 

He's 7 years old and a bit hard to understand as he uses his lower lip to make "L" and "Th" sounds. I pressed my thumb into the shoe and guided the edges around his heel. My eyes moved up and I saw him gazing at me.  He asked, nonchalantly; "Mom, when the doctor said 'push' did you push?"

I understood that he was talking about childbirth.  I answered with a yes.  He immediately asked if I pushed hard.  I said yes, I pushed really hard. 

He was looking at his shoe when his mouth opened. He whispered, painfully, as I watched his lips breathe the words;
"I wish I was borned from your belly." 

There was a pause that I cannot explain.  The universe flipped upside down in that one moment.  His voice gained strength, "Mom." 

Another pause scaled mountains as I blinked one time. He forced the words from his mouth as his eyes glided up, slowly to reach mine;
"I really wanted to be born from your belly."

My eyes filled with tears. I could not stop myself. Space and time filled my lungs. I had to talk. I am a mother. I am His mother. These words, My words, will fill his ears and he will remember this moment.  He will remember.

Somehow, I formed a sentence.

"Daxx I wanted you to be born from my belly.  I wanted to pick you and have you just like that.  I would have pushed and pushed for you, so, so hard."

He looked at me.  His dark brown eyes and mine; mirrors.  There was a silent exchange of souls.  No words. No expressions. A halt.

Then he grinned, ever so slightly. 

"You grew in my heart, Daxx.  Love grew really, really big in my heart and then God gave us each other."

I finished tying his shoes. We stood up. We walked out the door.

These are the moments that build our family.