Birth-Day

When someone has a birthday,
We rarely think of birth,
Although we do acknowledge
It’s the day he joined the earth.

But from a mom’s perspective,
If she lets herself go back,
The images of birth-day
Cake and candles surely lack.

While I waited for a taxi,
My small suitcase by my side,
I was counting my contractions,
Feeling slightly terrified.

At the hospital, the doctor came,
Arriving in a sweat,
His jogging interrupted,
Saying, “You’re not ready yet.”

So he left to take a shower
As I huffed and puffed and cursed,
And my husband, feeling helpless,
Got to see me at my worst.

But a bunch of hours later,
There he was – my brand-new son!
His birth-day was a joyous one,
When all was said and done.

Today he’ll celebrate that day,
All grown-up, with a wife,
Oblivious to how it was
When he first came to life.

I’m glad that’s so, for birthdays shout,
“I’m glad to be alive!”
And only moms recall the way
Their children did arrive.