A Few Thoughts on Motherhood

A year ago at this time, I received a magical call from our fertility center telling me that I was pregnant. After years of trying, a ton of medications and procedures, and millions of prayers, my dream of motherhood was beginning. Little did I know, my son would be born five short months later and weigh less than the breakfast burrito I chomped down day. The emotions I experienced from the call raged from manic glee to gut wrenching fear. But I felt an immediate connection to the little blastocyte of a baby in me.

What's funny is I thought I knew what love was then.  I thought I understood the willing, selfless sacrifice that goes with motherhood. Even when I laid in the hospital on bed rest trying to stay pregnant, I thought my heart couldn't love my baby anymore than it already did.

News flash. A year later, I still don't know if I completely understand love or sacrifice that comes with motherhood. I guess that's just being a mom though. You don't always understand it, but you do it. Every. Freaking. Day. You camp out on the floor next to the crib when your little one is sick because you cannot physically pull yourself away. You read stories until your voice cracks. You work night shifts and weekends so your kid doesn't have to go to day care and you can still do the job you love. You rock and sway with your baby until you're sure your hips will give out, and then you sway for another hour.

Maybe that's just it. Action. The love and sacrifice of motherhood is the action of doing and feeling something for a child that you couldn't for anyone else. And all of this is done with a smile on your tired face because doing so brings the greatest, fullest, yummiest joy in the whole wide world.