Somebody

When you think of being a parent, you sometimes think of your own parents. & speaking from my own point of view, you don't give them enough credit. Especially those who don't have children of their own.

Before I fell into the amazing world of being a mother, I was guilty of the same discrediting. But now I know better.

When you hold them, so tiny, fragile, & new... you feel things you may have never felt before.

I consider myself quite young to be a mother. I know people who were years before me with their first. Even my close friend Morgan, being 20. But, considering I'm talking about myself here, I feel too young to be a mother. I was worried in the beginning, about how I'd feel. Would I resent it? Would I regret it? Would I curse the every two hour feedings? Would I roll my eyes every time he fussed?

These first two weeks have answered all of those questions for me. Would I resent it? Never. Would I regret it? Never. Would I curse the every two hour feedings? How could I, when every two hours at night I get the reassurance that he's okay, & I get to see his beautiful face. Would I roll my eyes ever time he fussed? Not at all. In fact, I welcome to explore the challenge of trying to find what may be ailing him. Finding out new ways to soothe him.

Since I was unable to breast feed, I wondered if I had lost that special connection? I don't think so. I look into those eyes, & feel his grip grasp my finger, & I know that he loves me, & that he knows I love him, too.

I also wondered about my maternal instincts. I was never the person who had to hold babies. I normally preferred not being asked if I wanted to. I'd stiffen up, & wish that I hadn't been forced into holding someone else's tiny treasure. I know now, that when you see someone else holding them, they aren't feeling what you feel when you hold them yourselves. How could they?

I waited nine stinkin' months to see him. To meet him. To count his fingers & his toes. To know for a fact that everything had developed normally. To name him, to hold him. I waited impatiently for that one moment, & only a moment it was, when he first sprang from my womb and was placed in all his gooey glory upon my sweating chest to be gazed at for the first time. It was the most beautiful moment I'd ever had in my life. The entire room faded away. Not even Phil existed anymore. I looked at him, still attached to me by the umbilical cord. His arms reached into the air, as he gasped for breath to aid in his cries. I held him for the very first time, absolutely amazed at the miracle. He was absolutely perfect in every aspect I could imagine.

So I doubt now, that many people give their own parents enough credit. At one point (I hope) they had had that same moment with you. When all the anxiety, pain, fear, and excitement faded away. Where only you and your mother (and father) existed, staring at each other as if you were those kinds of strangers that felt like they've known each other all along.

I can't imagine ever feeling that way about anything ever again. Not that I will want to. That is my connection, with my son. I only want him to have the credit. That one moment where everything in my life, my heart, mind, & body changed.

I can honestly say I never knew who I really was until I became a mommy. Now, well.. now I'm somebody.

Teared up enough yet? Well, hopefully this picture will help. Everyone loves a baby in overalls.