One day I will say to the Firstborn Son

"I was drafting my literature review during your nap times-- sometimes with you napping in my lap."
"Half of my meals were eaten over your head."
"I have given poster presentations with you in sleeping in the carrier."
"I have mastered the art of closing switches with my toe, so that I can turn things off while carrying you without needing to stoop down"
"I have attended work dinners, meetings with my supervisor, and lab meetings with you awake and banging the table/breastfeeding/sleeping on my lap"
"I have figured out how to hold you, type with one hand, and feed myself lunch (on those days when you simply refuse to play on at your gym on the floor)."

Or maybe I will not say any of these things. But being a single mom is all consuming, tis true. I had been afraid of it since I got pregnant. But one thing I didn't anticipate was how deliriously happy I would be-- despite all the above.

So maybe I will say instead, "I went through the hardest, most physically and emotionally demanding time with you, and you made it the best time of my life."