On Motherhood and Love

Mother’s Day is actually Sunday, of course.  However, on Sunday I plan to be lounging while my children make me breakfast in bed, fan me, and feed me grapes (snort).

parent-child-newborn-jo-frances-parent-and-child-photo-gallery-1024x837

I love being a mother.  I have loved it from the first moment (all 6 of them the first time – I wanted to be SURE), I read those two lines instead of one on the pregnancy test with my first. Actually, the dream began before then.  I am almost embarrassed to say how far into my childhood I still played with dolls.  Even after I graduated to Barbies, it wasn’t the fashions or the pink Corvette that drew me.  I also had the little cloth baby from “The Sunshine Family” (a family of dolls that only children of the 70’s remember). I’d tape the baby to Barbie’s tummy under her dress, and then I would go with her to the “hospital” to have the baby.

 

Much to the annoyance of many of my friends, I loved being pregnant as well.  Of course, I didn’t spend months hugging the rim of the toilet, so that probably explains a lot of it.  I loved the way my body changed.  I loved knowing someone was “in there.” I loved buying those bras with the increased cup size (smile).  I loved the bulge, the profile, even the maternity clothes.  I loved feeling the kicks and hiccups, and, toward the end, watching my abdomen begin to resemble something from an alien movie as my babies (especially my son) ran out of room.

 

Of course, motherhood is not all Hallmark cards and beautiful black and white photos.  There are sleepless nights and endless poo (how does all of that fit into a 9 pound human???) and crying and colic and worries about fevers.  Followed by teacher conferences and broken hearts and rooms that need a Hazmat team.

 

But I love it – all of it.  I still cannot believe that I got to carry and HAVE these people who are part me.  I’ve written before about being adopted, and while my family and childhood was no less real or special than one that includes DNA, there is just something about seeing your nose or lips or eyes looking back at you in another person, knowing that you and someone you loved created this life that is a blend of the two of you in ways that cannot be separated.

 

I have cherished every single life that has begun inside me. I have dreamed about each of them.  I know each of them in a way I cannot describe.  And I knew what they would be inherently somehow.  And I love the love they represent.  I think that creating a life puts a permanence on that moment of love that nothing else quite does.  Even if families change or people divorce or part ways, when a new life has been a part of you, that moment of intimacy is like an invisible cord.

 

I am blessed to have a wonderful mother who taught and modeled so much for me.  I have not been perfect – far from it – but I hope I have been a blessing to my children as well.  Know that I love each of you, and I will carry you forever.

 

This post is dedicated to 3 precious, unique, beloved lives.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s