Epilogue

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My eyes snap open at the small thudding of footsteps growing nearer to the bed.

"Momma!" Matty shrieks, toddling foward on pudgy, unsteady legs.

I give him an exasperated, lop-sided smile. It was a smile that had become a trademark of my midnight parenting.

His round, unusally dark blue eyes regard me with happiness and quivering anxiety. They shine in the dark of the bedroom; like the glisten of a curious cat observing from the shadows.

Tiredly, I reply, "Yes, my love?"

He removes his thumb from in between his pouty red lips, taking a line of drool with it.

"Bet is crying again," he says as he makes his way over to the bed.

"Oh, she is?" I question. My eyes slide over to the white baby monitor standing at attention on the bedside table. Sure enough, the blinking red light is off. I must've forgotten to turn it on.

"Thank you, baby," I whisper, kissing his head of dark, thick curls, "You're such a great helper! Momma is so proud of you!"

A smile finds my lips at my son's eagerness to please and his silly pronunciations of what seem like easy names. His sister, thankfully, was not named Bet. Her name was Bethany, but even her nickname, Beth, was too much for Matty's still developing language skills.

He giggles in delight, slapping his palms against the crinkly fabric of the duvet.

I can't begin to describe what it feels like to be a mother. Looking at my children, it just fills me with this overwhelming sense of wonder and pride. Watching them learn and talk and totter on shaky legs is like being struck down in awe of a magic act. How did Dex and I create such a thing? How did we make this creature, this complex being, that is a culmination of ourselves, yet is somehow beyond our understanding?

I remember when I found out I was pregnant. Dex's look of shock as I told him was priceless, but I will never ever forget when he gingerly asked, "I'm going to be a daddy?" He sounded like an innocent boy who had just given the best gift in the world and was astonished by the reality of it.

It's like falling into a dream. A beautiful, wonderful dream where the world is colorful and shimmery and you are filled with so much hope and all your yearning is gone. You feel so complete, like you have finally found your purpose.

I never knew it possible to love another person so deeply, so whole-heartedly. Something grew inside me, a continuation of me and Dex sprouted hands and arms and tiny precious feet inside my stomach. We created a heart that thumped and little toes that jammed the skin of my stomach and tickled me with their fingers so lightly it felt like the touch of a ghost.

My children are my world. Every single time I hear the quiet whoosh of their breath or see Bethany's squirming hands reaching for me or hear Matty's tongue stumbling over a new word all I can think is; I am not deserving of the gems that I have been blessed with.

My tiredness fades as I watch Matty slap the foam mattress and stare in amazement at his fading handprints. A giggle bursts from my throat.

Scooping up my son by his tender armpits, I place him right against his dad. Matty coos in delight; he balls his fists and rests them on Dex's back.

Dex was my husband. Everyday, when my eyes fluttered open, I was greeted by his stunning blue eyes, the ident of his thumb hooking my chin, and finally his parting kiss. Dex is my husband. It bulldozed over me like a crashing wave each and every morning.

Before he left for work each morning, he would murmur softly into my ear, "Good morning, my darling."

I treasured those mornings where his muscle tees and sweatshirts were left behind (Dex owned and operated his own gym). When he and the kids would come thundering in. When Dex would toss Matty onto me and then jump into the remaining space with Bethany wriggling and babbling in his arms.

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