Yes, so it's been 5 months since I've updated. Whoops. To sum up: got pregnant, moved to new town, got unpregnant, made some new friends, settled in, playgroups, playdates, played trains. And here we are.
This past weekend, my dear sweet son turned TWO years old! It amazes me that two years have passed since those emotion-filled, exhausted, hormonal, foggy first days of his life. They were happy, certainly, but a combination of health worries (him) and hormonal psychosis (me) and the reality of caring for a newborn and the absolute unfathomable enormity of finally having a child was just too much for me to really process at the time. Two years later, I still marvel that it finally happened, but I can generally (not always) do it without bursting into tears.
Our journey to him was rocky and unsettling. It was lonely and scary. It was isolating and hopeless. But, ultimately it was rewarding. And it was the journey that was meant for us. It has forever changed me. I am less confident, but also less arrogant. I trust less in myself, but more in God. I am less sure it will all be as I want it, but more sure that it WILL be ok. I am less likely to worry over insignificant things, and more likely to empathize with someone who is hurting. I am more aware of the possibility of it all being taken away, but I am more likely to enjoy even the smallest things. I catch in others glimpses of who I was and who I imagine I would be today without having traveled this road. And I am happier to be who I am now.
Motherhood is the most difficult task I've ever worked at. It is all-consuming. Once you are a mother, you are never NOT a mother. No matter where you are and who you are with, the reality remains that there is a human out there who is relying on you for something (food, safety, emotional guidance, education, medical care, transportation, prayers...). And never have I been more excited to work so hard. Never have I been more vested in the task at hand and the outcome. It's not easy. And it's not always happy. And it doesn't always bring out my best. But more often than not, it is phenomenal. More often than not, it is so wonderful it's hard to believe anything can be this good.
Tonight I was putting my son to bed. He was uncharacteristically snuggly, leaning his head firmly into my chest and holding one of my hands on his face. He would talk quietly to me for a minute, then we would rock in silence for awhile. I was loving every moment of this unanticipated moment of intimacy. Suddenly he spoke up. "Mommy happy." I couldn't have said it better myself, kiddo.
