As the doctor predicted, Ben came into this world on the fourteenth of February. I always believed that Blake and I were meant to be together, and everything that has happened since we first met has only confirmed this. Not only did we conceive Ben in our first week of trying, but the date he was born on was the most romantic day of the year. Even the birthing process was easy and as simple as it could have been.
Blake and I are perfect for each other in every single way.
The kindergarten is the best one in the area. Blake was insistent on that. We both had pretty average childhoods, and as a result, we are both dedicated to ensuring our son has the best of everything. That starts with education.
As I take my son’s hand and lead him through the parking lot to the main building, I work to hold back the tears. My only relief comes from the fact that as I look around the school, I see a gaggle of other mothers wearing the same expression that I know to be plastered across my face. It’s a hard day for all of us.
“I think it’s this way,” Blake says, half to himself, as we stroll through the building. It’s a beautiful school, and I have to work to not gape as we make our way to where we think the classroom is.
Everything looks to be brand new. The walls are all brightly painted, and the grounds are freshly mowed with blooming bushes. Even the teachers who stroll the hallways are dressed impeccably. If it wasn’t for the life I have been living the last six years with Blake, I would feel very much out of my element.
“This is it,” Blake says as he guides us into a small classroom.
It must be the place. There are dozens of other parents all standing around nervously. Not the kids. The kids all look excited at the prospect of going to school and making new friends.
“Can I go over there?” Ben asks as he tries to let go of my hand. I don’t even realize how hard I am gripping it.
“Oh, of course,” I say. I let go of his hand, and he instantly crosses the room to talk to a boy.
I nearly break down in tears again as I watch him. He is so outgoing, just like his father and I am so proud to watch Ben make friends as easily as he does. The boy he approaches looks nervous at first, but a few kind words from my son and the two are suddenly laughing and running around together.
“Okay, everyone,” a lady standing by the front of the room calls out. I guess her to be the teacher. “I’m afraid, parents, that it is time for you to go. Rest assured that your children are in good hands and will all be in one piece at the end of the day.”
“Come on,” Blake takes my hand, going to lead me out of the room with the other parents.
“Just a sec. Let me say bye.”
A small pair of arms wrap around my legs. I look down and smile to see Ben giving me a hug. I ruffle his hair and bend down. I wrap my arms around him and give him a big, motherly kiss on the cheek. To my delight, he doesn’t cringe or try to avoid it.
The tears are now flowing thick and fast down my cheeks, and I don’t even care.
Blake takes my hands again and pulls me from my son. He smiles at me and kisses me on the cheek. Although he isn’t crying, I can see the red in his eyes.
Blake was the one who wanted to have a child in the first place. The day we found out we were going to be parents, I can still remember how happy I was. I can still remember how happy Blake was. I have never seen him so full of joy. Even on our wedding day, I don’t think he was on the same level of happiness as that day.
He is a great father, too, and I have never, not once, regretted the decision I made. I often think about the day he asked me to have his child and what my life would be like if I had said no. Whenever I do think about it, a cold shudder runs down my body, and I quickly push the thought to the back of my mind.
The ride home is a somber experience. It’s the first day in five years that I haven’t spent with Ben. Since the day he was born, I have spent nearly every waking moment with him, and the fact that I am about to arrive home to an empty house makes my heart hurt.
“Hey,” Blake says as he navigates the car. “He’s going to be fine. You saw him. Like his mother, he’s just too easy to love.”
“I think you mean like his father, he gets along with everyone,” I counter.
“Hmm, remember that day I asked the doctor about the possibility of our son being some sort of super child?”
“I do.” I laugh, thinking back to the moment.
“I honestly think that between the two of us, we have managed to create one. The little guy is perfect in every way. How could he be any better? Tell me that?” He beams with pride.
“You’re right,” I say, and I smile. “He is perfect in every way.”