Sunday, May 8, 2011

Mother's Day

I realize it’s almost the end of Mother’s Day, but I’ve spent the whole day holding my baby. That made it a little difficult to type. To be honest, I really don’t feel like a mother yet. I just feel really, really lucky to have this adorable, cute, beautiful doll that I get to make smile and coo, and I hold her while she sleeps, and I clip her little nails, and soak in the tub with her, and pick out her clothes, and feed her when she’s hungry, and go on walks during the day, and sing to her all my favorite songs. But a mother…I don’t quite feel like one yet.

See, I have a mom that sets the bar pretty high. I can’t think about my childhood without smiling. It was amazing, and largely due to the fact that I had a mother fully involved in every aspect of my life. Of course it is also full of memories and tales of my dramatics, middle child woes, and a little teen angst:) But there wasn’t anything I attempted, sometimes failing, or accomplished where she wasn’t there with support, encouragement, advise, and love. And that didn’t stop when I left for college. Adventure after adventure, trip after trip, she stayed excited for me. Even though I know she was worried and sometimes scared to death for my safety. But she knew I was following my heart and growing as a person and what I needed was support and prayers.

And then after college I met a boy and only a few months later was moving 2 hours from home to be with him. Now she had to worry about the safety of my heart. But there was that support. She embraced the man I love from the first time meeting him, the man she had been praying for since I was born. She helped me plan the wedding of my dreams and joyfully, with my father, gave me away to my husband. Joyfully, because I was over the moon happy…and that is what made her happy.

And then last summer I got to tell her I was pregnant. Even with my whole pregnancy still in front of me, she was already in love with my child. Eight weeks ago, Lucy Pearl arrived. I became a mother. But I needed my mother more than I ever had before. Not just because she helped make sure my needs were met, or that she cleaned my house like it had never been cleaned before, or that we were fed for weeks, or even that I could rest because I knew Lucy was as ferociously protected in her arms as in my own. I just needed her. And now I realize that maybe it’s because when I was just a chunky, bald baby she was the person who made me smile and coo, and held me when I slept, and clipped my nails, and soaked in the tub with me, and picked out my clothes, and fed me when I was hungry, and took me on walks and sang to me.

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