There is absolutely nothing that can compare to the whirlwind that I have felt as a mother. There is no phrase to describe the euphoric joy that comes crashing into your life when you become a parent. There are moments that seem to stretch forever and moments you wish you could stretch even longer. These are the pangs of early motherhood that people warn you of.
Tonight as I held my baby and rocked him to sleep, I looked into his sleepy eyes, and I knew instantly that if he could, he would say, “I love you, Mom.” If you are a parent, you know this moment. That moment that makes every single ounce of frustration worth it. If you are not a parent, when you experience this moment, you will know what it means to gain true perspective–the concept that in that moment and in this life, nothing matters more than being your best, if not for yourself, but for your child.
As I laid baby down to sleep, I felt my heart swell. Only an hour earlier, I had been tearing up in frustration that despite an insane amount of diet and exercise, I had only managed to gain weight this week. Somehow I experienced a Grinch moment. I went from grumpy and angry mom to a woman who felt her heart grow three sizes in a moment. And as the Grinch did, I found strength.
But more importantly, I found gratitude. How I begged inwardly for the moment to not end. I crept out of his room, careful to not bump a single piece of furniture. I enjoyed using the bathroom without a baby on my lap or within 6 inches in a rock and play, and as I washed my hands slowly for the first time today (for my non-parent friends, yes, this is a big deal) and slowly turned off the faucet, I heard several quiet coos.
With my renewed heart, I crept into baby boy’s room. His eyes wide, his gummy grin stretched for me. And once again in that moment, my heart grew; I thought, “How can anything else matter?”
And I enjoyed putting him to bed for the second time. I rocked him, placed his “soft blankie” next to focus and hummed our songs. Only did he fall asleep once once I brought him onto my crumpled white bed and laid down with him in my arms. I felt his small chest rise and lower. His hand curled around my finger, and again, I prayed this moment would last longer. After ten minutes of procrastinating putting him down, I crept again into his room. the sea projection on his ceiling and hearing his white noise machine provided me the thought that there will be a day that he won’t need me to place him into his bed. For now, I am his comfort. I begged time to slow. Just a few moments longer.
And of course, as I crept out, his eyes bounced open. Angry mom would be frustrated, but happily I softly walked back to him, as he graced me with his coy habit of smiling and looking away. Instead of my heart growing, this time it melted.
I made him.
Between my husband and I, this beautiful, wonderful, sweet baby boy came to this Earth, and he is mine forever. Making him made irreparable stretch marks, but making him made my life full of love.
I scooped him up and breathed him in. Eventually he did go to bed, but not before his dad played with his tiny, limp feet and hands.
In these moments, there are no words. No words to describe the joy that I feel. Yes, in these moments time cannot stand still. For in these moments, my dreams come true.