I have always thought that I would make a good mother.
I don’t mean to boast or say that I am a better mother than others, but I have always thought that I would make a good mother. I’ve always felt like it was my calling in life to have children and to raise them. I’ve always felt like I was well prepared to be a mother since I babysat and nannied so much in my youth and have had such an intense love for my nieces and nephews and have enjoyed spending so much time with them.
I have always been a patient and kind person, and have interacted with children very well. And I have always gravitated towards children and wanted to spend time with them almost more so than with adults at gatherings.
I love being a mother.
I cannot describe the feelings of joy motherhood has brought into my life. I still love my nieces and nephews so so much and love spending time with them but now I get it. Before I became a mother, I used to tend my nieces and nephew and think about how much I loved them; how I would do anything for them; how I would sacrifice everything I had to make a better life for them.
Then I would think about the mothers of those kids, and think if I loved these kids so intensely as their aunt, how much more intense a mother’s love would be and having a hard time comprehending that kind of love.
Now I understand that love.
The love a mother has for her child. The kind of love that fills your heart to its capacity so that your heart feels like it will burst because it cannot contain the amount of love you have for the little being that you hold in your arms.
The heartache you feel as you realize the trials this child will have to go through throughout their life and how as much as you want to protect her from the world, she will need to experience these trials in order to grow and remain strong in today’s troubled society.
The kind of love that makes time stand still, that makes you soak in each small moment, because those small moments make up your world.
The first time she smiles, coos, laughs, looks straight into your eyes, holds your finger with her tiny hand, yawns, and stops crying when you pick her up and rock her.
Those moments pass all too quickly, but you realize that there is still so much more to come.
Soon she will be crawling, walking, talking, running, reading, writing, scraping knees, running through sprinklers, riding bikes, playing hide-and-seek, playing dress-up, playing dolls, doing homework. And then one day far in the future she will be getting married to the love of her life, and then having her own children.
And the circle will continue. She will finally understand the love I have for her as her mother, because she will have that same love for her children.
As I wipe away the tears from my eyes, I hear my baby babbling away in her crib as she wakes up from her nap. Suddenly I am back in reality, my own little world where I change diapers, play on the floor, and nurse my baby all day long.
And I love it.
Because I am a mother.
