One of the clearest, surest things I have known about myself, and my identity for the last...twelve or so years, is that I want to be a mother. I have known, deep within my bones, that I was born to be one. Not because I think I will be great at it, or because I have all the answers...but because when someone asked me "what do you want to do with your life?" or "what are your goals for your future?" some quiet, knowing part of my soul always whispered back "I'm going to be a mama"...
I don't know if I even really have the words to capture every thought and emotion cascading through my mind these days.
I almost don't want to find the words...I want to selfishly lock up all these precious baby and mama moments in my memory, and hang on to them forever...
But then I worry that maybe I will forget - that the lucidity of these memories will fade, as time passes day by day. I want to have these little records of love for those inevitable moments of frustration, heart-ache, and worry. For the sleepless nights when I know I will question my capability, my worth, my sanity, my strength. To help me remember that we made it through these days together, and we will make it through those ones as well.
I want to remember how these last days felt before your arrival...and magical just doesn't seem to hold enough power to describe them.
I want to remember the times you started moving when we were out. I would invite someone to place their hand on my belly to feel you move...and usually you would stop.
More importantly, I want to remember that when your daddy put his hand on my belly and gave it a tap, you always, always, tapped right back. The way your movements would follow the path traced by his hands, as though you knew he would never lead you astray, even before you had ever met.
I want to remember sobbing because the pain was so great I couldn't keep the tears from falling...and inevitably wiping those tears and cradling your weight, whispering that you were worth it all, and you weren't even here yet. And in those moments, I would feel the gentle swell of your movements beneath my hands and below my skin...and know that you were comforting me, as much as I sought to comfort you.
I want to remember watching the rise and fall of my stomach as you rolled and moved to find a comfortable position - the distension of my skin when you found a good spot (that I generally didn't agree with). The appearance of a limb beside my belly button, or in my side or under my rib and the complete, naked awareness that there was a tiny, perfect human causing it all. Massaging my body back to it's new-normal state, only to feel you move right back into that perfect, lazy position, all over again.
I want to remember the tears of frustration I just couldn't contain when I couldn't get a project "just right". Not being strong enough to build furniture on my own. The broken crib piece that took three weeks to track down and replace. Misreading the directions on the pack-n-play and the struggle to undo my mistake. Trying to talk myself down because I didn't want to cause you undue stress. Trying to rationalize with myself - because really, I was being ridiculous. And knowing through it all, that all I really wanted was to create a perfect place for our tiny miracle to come home to...
I want to remember the way that Lexi has seemed to know for weeks and weeks that a change is coming...but Dante has been much slower to acknowledge the change in my body. That this morning he nuzzled up to us and cuddled in close, peering up at me as if to communicate "I know something is changing...please don't forget about me" [I won't big guy. I promise].
I want to remember watching the blossoming excitement in your daddy as these months have passed...from the silence of initially finding out we would be parents, to the smiles and joy when we talk about the promise of our future together.
To remember that I knew there would be rough nights, and hard days. I want to remember, that through whatever kind of divine creation there is, that WE were given the gift of YOU as our child, and what an honour it has been to carry you and support your life for the past ten months.That I will not be the perfect mom, but I WILL be the perfect mother for you. That through our trials, our missteps, our confusion and frustration that there is always a lesson to be learned...so we better try our hardest to learn them all. There will be tears on behalf of all of us. We will NOT always make the right choices, but they will ALWAYS be made with the best of intentions.
Thank you for giving me the gift of being my deepest, most basic desire. Thank you for making me a mother, and for fulfilling my soul's wish. And know, every single moment, of every single day, that you are so very, very loved.
Linking up with Casey Leigh Wiegand for: On Your Heart <3
Did you pop in from there? I'd love to know you were here!