My Texas Son

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We can’t all be birth goddess beautiful. It’s raw, but it’s the truth.

I’ve been in Texas for three years this August. My life certainly didn’t begin here, but my greatest adventure has.
On July 21st 2016 I became a mom.

ME.  I am a mom.

And my little dude is a Texan.

This girl from small town Ontario, who didn’t even travel out of her zip code until well into adulthood, has a home, a husband, and a family in TEXAS.

Lots of people move around soI’m sure the weight of my statement is lost on many but after years of long distance dating, getting married, the immigration process, and then following husband’s job state to state, I marvel at just how amazing it is that we made it this far.
My son is a Texan therefore Texas has forever changed me and altered my journey; It’s amazing and beautiful and so weird at the same time.

For now I will spare you the birth story, the breast feeding challenges, the pure loneliness of becoming a mother so many miles away from friends and family, and just take a moment (the first moment I’ve had since he arrived) and appreciate the fact that while my son may never know the bitter cold of recesses on a  school day or the rate at which a thermos of hot chocolate cools when you are tobogganing on new year’s morning, or the  kooky joy of being ‘too’ polite, we will be creating an entirely unique experience for him as equal parts American and Canadian.
My Texas son has not only changed my Texas life, he has given it so much purpose.

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