In October 2003, I became a mother. Well really, I became a mother on Valentine's Day of that same year when the existence of my little girl was confirmed and I saw the tiny little flicker of her heartbeat for the first time. Since that day she is the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. I hate to be such a predictable, corny sap but truthfully, there is one thing that has remained constant for me in the last 6 years, and she is it. I don't think I would have survived all of the things that I've had to survive it if weren't for her. I have never been more grateful for anything than I am for my beautiful little girl who is the only person (other than maybe my own mother) with the ability to make me feel equal parts of humor, anger, melancholy, joy, and frustration in the span of a half hour.
The day she was born was a conflict of emotions for me. I was ecstatic to finally get to meet this little person who had lived inside me for 40 VERY long weeks, but I was anxious and scared about the kind of life I would be able to provide for her once she came out. I mean, right before I gave birth it was pretty clear to me that I was going to be doing the parenting thing solo. I was still married but the writing was on the wall that the relationship that existed when she was conceived would not be the one she would be born into. I was terrified that we would end up being another statistic, with me scrounging, saving and doing whatever I could think of for us to get by. I had visions of working three jobs and never seeing my daughter and her father suing me for custody and declaring me unfit because I couldn't give her a real family like he would be able to with his new wife and health insurance. (BTW,I tend to over dramatize when I'm freaked out)
The whole birth was kind of a blur, I mean I remember being uncomfortable that my mother, sister, estranged dad, and my estranged husband were all in the room looking up my vajayjay, then all of a sudden there was this little face with my nose and a head full of black hair. Once she was born of course everyone forgot about me and went to the nursery to look at her through the glass while I was exiled to my hospital room since no one cares about the incubator once the baby is done incubating. Friends and family came by to visit and see my little princess for the first time and I barely got the chance to hold her because they all wanted to fight over her like she was a new toy.
After everyone went home and I was alone with only my exhaustion and self doubt, I had so many thoughts running through my head. It was the most alone I have ever felt in my life, and I truly felt like I was going to fail before I even had the chance to start. Then a nurse knocked on the door and told me that my little one was hungry and had been crying and she handed her over to me. I looked down into that little face that was so innocent and fragile but wise at the same time and in that moment, I became a mother. She looked at me as if to say "I know who you are, and I'm glad that it's you" and then I started to cry. Silent tears of joy and release because even though my situation wasn't perfect, this little person in my arms was the most perfect gift that I had ever received and I was going to do my damnedest to make sure that she would always look at me as though she's glad that it's me who is her mother.
In the years since that night there have been struggles, both emotional and financial. I have had to do a lot of on the job training and have come to the realization that motherhood is not for wimps. It is definitely an Only the Strong Survive kind of scenario. I have had to learn patience, understanding, and compassion to levels I never knew existed. I find myself repeating things over and over again, and sounding more like my own mother than I would ever want to admit out loud.
I've had to reconcile that my boobs will never again be Maxim magazine material, at best they are now only suited for National Geographic. There are days that I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and think...who the heck is that? Didn't I used to be hot? I used to have a gaggle of boys surrounding me hanging on my every word (well at least that's how I remember it). Now cute boys refer to me as Ma'am or mention how cute my little girl is.
Oh yes...life is certainly different. But would I change a thing? Not for the world. She has been worth every sacrifice, every tear, and even every stretch mark. There are few things in life that I am certain of, but one thing I know for sure is that I was put on this earth to be her mother. So today which is supposed to be "my day" I want to take time to really address how grateful I am that I was blessed with such a beautiful child who makes me appreciate life and gives me the strength and the courage to keep on doing what I'm doing because considering how awesome she is, I know I'm doing something right. Happy Mother's Day!
