Once upon a time, there was a Queen who loved children. She spent many days overlooking the children in the kingdom, and she was happy for the most part. In spite of her happiness, she felt that something was missing.
Then, one glorious day, a prince was born unto the King and Queen, and the kingdom rejoiced. The Queen was certain that she had never beheld such a beautiful child, or felt such joy, and the King was beaming with pride.
Life changed quite drastically in the royal castle. The noise that echoed through the royal halls was quite deafening for a time, and the Queen feared she would lose her royal mind.
Soon, however the prince was toddling around the castle at full speed, and charming everyone with his smiles. Much rejoicing was done by the Queen, that she had survived the little prince's first year with her royal sanity more or less intact.
Then, on an ordinary day, like any other, the little prince, who was twelve and three months by that time, fell while playing on the royal throne, and hit his head. The Queen, who was across the room, checking her royal correspondence, observed his fall, and a gasp escaped from the Queen's lips.
Before the Queen could even get up, the little prince ran to her with his arms outstretched, wrapped his arms tightly around her neck, and placed his head on her shoulder. The Queen felt the warmth of his embrace and the softness of his cheek against hers. She kissed his royal head, breathed in the intoxicating smell of his hair, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that this is what she was meant to do. She was always meant to be the little prince's mom.
The Queen's heart was full. All was right in the kingdom, and the Queen lived happily ever after, loving the King and the Prince.