Someone asked me, "What Makes You a Mother?" And here I am coming up on my second Mother's Day as a mom, and I have no idea how to answer this question.
Because obviously there isn't an answer.
At least if there is, I don't completely understand it.
After all, it's not about being pregnant and having a baby. Because of course, you don't need to do these two things to be a mother. That said, I've been pregnant three times. I have one beautiful son. And even as I type this, I'm literally shedding tears for the other two babies I lost. Because I was their mother. And I celebrate them too this weekend.
It's also not about doing anything. Because there are a million ways to do everything, and I'm guessing at least 96% of the options are completely valid, good, and right.
So I guess being a mother is mainly about the being. And, as they say, being is mainly about being present in any given moment. But in this moment, as I sit here two days before my second Mother's Day, my precious little boy is spending two days with his grandmother and grandfather, and the HcQ and I are having our first ever childless vacation at home. Which means I'm not presently being in any moment with my child. It also means I slept in past 7:30 a.m. for the first time in 19 months. I woke up on my own, without my Hurricane alarm clock. And I made coffee before I changed a diaper. It's been an incredibly lazy morning, just the kind I like.
However, as I sit here drinking that coffee (and typing), I swear I keep thinking I hear the little whimpers my beautiful little son makes when he wakes from a sleepy nap. And then, I realize he's not here right now, and I have that oh darn feeling, like when you wake up from a great dream and realize you aren't really George Clooney's girlfriend. That's what I'm experiencing.
See, even though I can do whatever I want today, I keep thinking about what he's doing. In fact, I'm seriously resisting the urge to call my mom and see what they're doing right now. And I can't wait to see him tomorrow.
Because my thoughts are always with him. And even though my life doesn't revolve around and through him (because that's pressure he doesn't need), his is a very cherished room in our incredibly way full busy, beloved, and blessed house.
And even though on any given day, I would and will daydream for a day like this and remember my open-schedule days of yesteryear with blissful longing and a rose-colored sigh...here I am.
Enjoying the eye of the storm, but really missing the Hurricane.
Because I'm no longer that person of yesteryear. My heart has added an extra room.
And whether I completely understand it or not, I'm changed.
And that's what makes me a mother.
Because obviously there isn't an answer.
At least if there is, I don't completely understand it.
After all, it's not about being pregnant and having a baby. Because of course, you don't need to do these two things to be a mother. That said, I've been pregnant three times. I have one beautiful son. And even as I type this, I'm literally shedding tears for the other two babies I lost. Because I was their mother. And I celebrate them too this weekend.
It's also not about doing anything. Because there are a million ways to do everything, and I'm guessing at least 96% of the options are completely valid, good, and right.
So I guess being a mother is mainly about the being. And, as they say, being is mainly about being present in any given moment. But in this moment, as I sit here two days before my second Mother's Day, my precious little boy is spending two days with his grandmother and grandfather, and the HcQ and I are having our first ever childless vacation at home. Which means I'm not presently being in any moment with my child. It also means I slept in past 7:30 a.m. for the first time in 19 months. I woke up on my own, without my Hurricane alarm clock. And I made coffee before I changed a diaper. It's been an incredibly lazy morning, just the kind I like.
However, as I sit here drinking that coffee (and typing), I swear I keep thinking I hear the little whimpers my beautiful little son makes when he wakes from a sleepy nap. And then, I realize he's not here right now, and I have that oh darn feeling, like when you wake up from a great dream and realize you aren't really George Clooney's girlfriend. That's what I'm experiencing.
See, even though I can do whatever I want today, I keep thinking about what he's doing. In fact, I'm seriously resisting the urge to call my mom and see what they're doing right now. And I can't wait to see him tomorrow.
Because my thoughts are always with him. And even though my life doesn't revolve around and through him (because that's pressure he doesn't need), his is a very cherished room in our incredibly way full busy, beloved, and blessed house.
And even though on any given day, I would and will daydream for a day like this and remember my open-schedule days of yesteryear with blissful longing and a rose-colored sigh...here I am.
Enjoying the eye of the storm, but really missing the Hurricane.
Because I'm no longer that person of yesteryear. My heart has added an extra room.
And whether I completely understand it or not, I'm changed.
And that's what makes me a mother.
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