E, Myself, and I: The One That Made Me a Mama

Dear Sam,

There are SO many days lately that I literally can't believe this is my life. It seems impossible that I am married, have a home, a dog, and an almost two year old. Truly, I still feel like the 18 year old smiling next to the shaggy-haired boy in the prom picture that hangs on our refrigerator. (Of course, some days I feel like I'm 78, but you get the point...)

Back then, I only dreamed and imagined this life for one day; and, now, here we are...

This morning, you and your daddy (that same shaggy-haired boy from the fridge) made me chocolate chip pancakes (my favorite) for breakfast. We sat around the dining room table together, and giggled as you made animal sounds and pointed to your body parts.

Our floors are littered with toys, and tiny, sticky hand-prints cover every flat surface. "The Wheels on the Bus" blares through the house, and you are busy as can be building a Lego tower to crash into with your dump truck. (I should also mention that in the five minutes since I sat down to write this post, you've also broken one of my delicate china tea-cups and set-off my car alarm... #notanexaggeration #neveradullmoment.)

Two years ago today, my belly was the size of Mount Everest, and I was anxiously waiting for your arrival in just a couple of short months. God had started the work of making me a mom more than a decade earlier - with the first little glimpses and hopes for a family in my future, but with each tiny butterfly kick or day crossed off the calendar, it was becoming more and more real. Back then, God was busy in my heart (and goodness knows my body too) making me a mom. I had read a million books (give or take a few), taken a few dozen parenting classes, and perfectly designed your nursery by that point. On the outside, I was so ready to be a mom; but, the truth is, I could never have guessed what a true GIFT and HONOR (and PROCESS) it would be.

Oh bless my fat little heart. This does nothing for making me ready for baby #2.

I want to write something flowery here about how I became a mother the moment I laid eyes on you in that hospital on July 13th. But, the truth is, I was over-drugged and you looked like a little alien. I was scared to death.

I know, I have a lot of nerve saying you looked bad. ;)

Like everything else that is worth it in life, we had to WORK at this thing. You were kind-of grouchy, and I made a lot of rookie-mistakes... But, by God's grace, the days and months passed and we fell in love.

Today, sweet boy, I am crazy about you. You are my boy. When I look at you now - such a big boy with skinned knees, a dirty face - my heart could literally explode with love for you. Your toothy grin and gentle kisses are the greatest things I've ever made...

I think some people fear that becoming a mom makes them lose some of themselves... It is a logical fear, really; after all, my life is entirely different today than it was two years ago, and it most certainly does revolve around you. But, the truth is, when you reach up your little hand for help down the stairs, or lay your head on my chest when you are sleepy, I feel more like myself than ever.