Today my mother asked me what I missed about my life before my son. It might seem like a harsh question, but she was being genuine. Before I reveal my answers to her question let me remind everyone; everything changes when you become a mother. You have to take your baby with you everywhere, you have to keep track of how much he/she eats, poops, and pees. There’s a lot to take note of too, like what color was his/her poop, what kind of texture it looked like. Those things just seem gross and before now, I used to think that was nuts. When I was pregnant I heard my mom friends talk about their infant’s poop incessantly. All I could think was, “Gross! Is this my life now? Am I going to be or supposed to be obsessed with the color and texture of my child’s poop?”  Oh! And don’t forget if you want to go out for drinks or go to work or school, you need a sitter! 

I miss leaving the house whenever I wanted alone without having my child’s nap schedule get in the way of me leaving. Not changing diapers, or wearing shirts that easily access my breasts so that I could pull those out and breastfeed, I miss not worrying about every single little thing or germ that could infect my child, sleeping in as long as I want to, I miss going to the grocery store and being in and out. And sometimes I just miss the me I used to be. 

But do you know what? I wouldn’t trade being a mother of my son for the world. Because from the moment I heard his heartbeat my heart knew that I needed him. From the moment I held him in my arms after eighteen hours of labor and twenty six minutes of pushing out a nine pound five ounce baby, love and content was overflowing my heart. I had so much love to give this chunky baby. I’ve always been decently happy. I had a husband whom I love very much and I was going to have a baby. And that baby was here and for the first time in my life, this baby made me feel so light and I felt like I had everything. I felt God’s love for me and this tiny human and it was such a powerful blessing to me. Every single hardship I’ve ever faced, trial I’ve overcome, all of it, everything was suddenly worth it because I had the gift of God in my arms. He gave my life a new purpose. 

Being a mother is hard. It is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but it’s worth it. It’s worth it because even though I have hard days, the good days outshine them all. My heart glows when my child smiles at me, kisses me, and calls me mama. There are so many times where I cry and wonder if I’m doing anything right. Times where when my son has accidentally fallen or gotten hurt I take it so hard on myself. I cry harder than he does, I apologize to him incessantly, knowing he doesn’t understand my sorrow or need for him to understand. The ’mom guilt’ is too much sometimes. But when my son gets back up and laughs and comes up to me and wants only me to hold him, it gives me so much joy and strength. It reminds me that no matter how many times I fall, all I need to do is get back up and try again. My son taught me that. He is so little and full of life. He doesn’t know a lot about the world around him yet, but he teaches me something every day. And it overshadows anything I’ve ever missed from before I was a mom.

There are times that I stray from God. I’m not perfect. But when I look at my son’s face and think about what a miracle he is, what a blessing he is to be in my life, it reminds me of God’s love. My love as a mother is powerful for my son, but it’s nothing compared to God’s. In the spirit of Thanksgiving coming up, I am thankful for my savior, my husband, my son, but most of all being a mother.