an eight year journey

Eight years ago, I didn’t know what it meant to really be a mother. I had an idea, but it was a little surface deep. Being a mother looked pretty, and beautiful, and magical.  It is those things, but it is so much more. Mothering is laying your life, your ideas, your motivation, and your comfort down for someone who needs you and depends on you at the deepest level imaginable.

August 5th 2003 that beautiful and magical moment happened to me. And the journey as a mother started.  I will never forget that moment he was placed in my arms. Will any mother? The moment they laid him on my chest. When I think about it, I feel like am there again. I remember his cry ,and strangely, the exact way six pounds and fourteen ounces feels like being placed on a stomach that just went from being as tight as a drum, to as loose as a bowl of chowder.

Eight years ago, I didn’t know you could love someone so much. After a 24 hour induction and a few minutes of pushing he was here.

Motherhood is not what I pictured somehow it is both harder than I thought and was more way more rewarding. It has had it’s up, downs, tears, pure joy, excitement, scares, sleepless nights, sacrifice, love and so much more.

I pray every day, some how, some way, God will give me the wisdom to raise this boy to be a good man. I believe he is helping me.



Thanks for being the first, for forgiving me as I learned, and am learning how to be the best mom for you. You are the best first son I could have ever asked for. And handsome,too. I am happy I’ve had the opportunity to take this journey with you. Happy Birthday!