A Mommy's First

For those of you who know Patrick and I (most of you reading this blog!), we are pretty sociable people. Very few things are better than being surrounded by family and friends to celebrate whatever occasion we can possibly think of. Yesterday was different. I simply wanted a quiet day together as a family to celebrate my first Mother's Day, and I got just that.

The day consisted of church (with a good little Catholic baby who slept the entire time), brunch, a nap, and a relaxing evening of watching television together as a family. When I went to bed I couldn't help but think what a difference a year can make. A year ago I spent Mother's Day crying after having my second miscarriage just weeks before, wondering when I was finally going to get my baby that I wanted so badly. Now, I marvel at the fact that I am a mom. It's been a crazy first few weeks, but any first-time mom knows that feeling quite well.

I decided to include this poem that a good friend gave me to help me through the last year. I still read it often to remind myself of what an amazing gift being a parent actually is. So, for those of you who are moms or want to be a mom, happy Mother's Day.

A WONDERFUL MOTHER

There are women who become mothers without effort,

without thought,

without patience or loss,

and though they are good mothers and love their children,

I know that I will be better.

I will be better not because of genetics or money or because I have read more books,

but because I have struggled and toiled for this child.

I have longed and waited.

I have cried and prayed.

I have endured and planned over and over again.

Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.

I will notice everything about my child.

I will take time to watch my child sleep, explore, and discover.

I will Marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life.

I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold, and feed him

and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot, or cry tears of a broken dream.

My dream will be crying for me.

I count myself Lucky in the sense; that God has given me that insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child.

Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love.

I will be a better mother for all that I have endured. I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend, sister, because I know pain.

I know disillusionment, as I have been betrayed by my own body. I have been tried by fire and hell that many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.

I prevailed.

I have succeeded.

I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort. I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.

I listen, and even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely.

I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight of mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth when life is beyond hard.

I have learned a compassion that only comes by walking in those shoes. I have learned to appreciate life.

Yes, I will be a wonderful mother.

author.... unknown.