you were the first
i remember like it was yesterday, walking down Grant
street where we would someday live, your father and i
and you, walking down that street a month or two before
i met him, not thinking of anything in particular, as 17
year-old girls sometimes do. walking down that street with
dreams in my head, in my heart, and suddenly i heard
someone call me "mama." it was so clear and so loud, but
inside me, ya know? clear and plain. "mama." well, i stopped
still in the street, stopped by shock and a feeling of inevitability.
like it had already happened, and i hadn't even met your father yet.
that was months away, but your voice was in my head at that moment.
i didn't know your name, didn't even know if you'd be a boy or a girl.
and i suppose some could say that at that moment, i planned you, but it
never felt like that. no, it never did.
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