You Made Me a Mother
I felt you.
You were a pea. Then a lemon. Then an eggplant.
I followed advice. I read twelve books. I quit coffee.
Could you tell I was scared?
I wasn’t ready.
But then you were here. Ten toes. Five pounds. Love. Big fat love.
I held you. I fed you.
I realized that I would spend my life doing things to make you happy — and that that would make me happy.
And then there are the times I want to give up.
You’ve made me rethink my sanity.
You’ve made me want to fall on my mother’s feet and tell her that I get it.
But then you smile and you say my name — and you grab my hand with those little fingers.
We’re growing together.
We are seeing the world like it’s new.
I will open my heart and love will rain down all over you.
You’ll giggle, and I’ll do it all over again.
And we will walk hand in hand. Until you let go.
I made you, but you made me a mother.
I saw this post on the BFP group in FB, and it is intended for a babywearing ad. Yet somehow it summarize how I feel about my son, how he saves me from my sanity everyday, how he brings joy and hope to me everyday. Yes it's true, I made him, but He made me a mother.
