Dear Babe, Love Mom.
Today is Mother’s Day. A day held as a source of major pride for most; a day of pain for others. Truly, Mother’s Day is a time of many mixed emotions. As I sit here and think about how there is a whole day built into our calendar year to celebrate and remember Mothers, I can’t help but think of how it all started. For if it wasn’t for you, my sweet babe, I would never have been given this amazing title of Mom.
So let me say thank you. Thank you for making me a mother, for allowing me to hold and nurture your tiny little body. As I expanded physically (and more than I would have liked!) I grew even more emotionally. Those 10 months of sharing my whole being you, my body was your home. You etched your name inside me and I’ll never be the same. While some nights I cursed; fat, hot and swollen, I still understood how absolutely miraculous it was. I feel so honored to have experienced this with you.
Thank you for being gracious and allowing me to stumble and fall, over and over and over again. All those times I held your little hand and cried because you weren’t eating or sleeping or whatever it is that felt so hard and incomprehensible at the time. I was a new mom with shaky legs and you stuck with me. You let me swaddle you too tight, fumble with your clothes, over-feed you and prod too much. You remained steady even when I lay on your floor swearing ‘fuck ’ over and over again because I felt like I couldn’t make it another day. You didn’t blink when I held you and sobbed because I was so tired and unsure. The early days of mother hood felt so lonely and isolating to me. I’m not sure I was enough for you, but you loved me still.
Thank you for teaching me more about myself than I could ever have imagined learning. You stripped me down naked, my soul exposed. You made visible the ugliest parts of me and yet you still chose me. You forgave my inadequacies without a flinch. Every day was a bright new start for you and with every morning you greeted me with the same love and acceptance that I needed to keep going. The very nature of who you are required me to keep digging, keep trying, keep loving and growing.
Thank you for teaching me about life. You force me to slow down, look at things closer and see the world simply. I love that you gave me this lesson; it has been by far the most valuable for me. Simplifying my life for you has enriched it far beyond what I imagined. The lessons you’ve taught me by getting me to crouch low in the grass to look at a bug or see the bubbles in your chocolate milk have translated into such a higher and deeper practice for me. It all started with you.
Thank you for teaching me to not take myself so seriously. You remind me every day to laugh at my inadequacies, be gentle with myself and celebrate what makes me who I am. You do this because you are wise, my child, and you naturally exude a confidence about who you are and your purpose that astounds me. You don’t compare. Jealousy isn’t on your radar yet. You genuinely root for others, are excited for their triumphs and pained by their sadness. You are unapologetically human.
You keep me in check; help me stay humble. You throw the thoughtfully made, nutritious, kale/quinoa/cauliflower/super food/vegan whatever food on the floor and ask for Kraft dinner. You don’t care if you are wearing the hippest baby clothes or what brand your stroller is. You don’t notice if I have make up on or if I forgot to pluck one of my random pesky chin hairs. You don’t care if we own a house or have shiny things. You value interaction, the real face to face.
You’ve taught me to SHOW UP. To listen (and I mean, really listen) to what is happening around me. To take interest in things and see where it leads. I love watching you learn new skills, to see you discover new parts of yourself. It always gives me hope that I can still grow and dream too.
Most importantly, you’ve taught me to love with abandon and that there is no failure, but there is always forgiveness.
So my beautiful child, even though this day is for me, I choose to use it to celebrate you. For without you, I wouldn’t have been given this wondrous title of Mother and this role has been, by far, more life giving than I could ever have dreamed.
I love you, I love you, I love you.