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I left the work force to become a parent.
I spend about 85% of my day-every day-just being a mother.
Lots of things define the role of motherhood. The dictionary defines us as “a female person who is pregnant with or gives birth to a child.”
And while technically that may be true, I’ve never believed that having a baby or being pregnant makes you a mother anymore than contributing sperm to a conception makes a man a father. Biologically, yes. Realistically? No. Anyone can be a mother or a father…but it takes someone special, someone who is ever-present in a child’s life to be a mom or a dad.
Little Man was sick last week. An upset tummy, a lousy appetite and a poor sleeping schedule left me up at random hours running off of little sleep. I spent more time in the bathroom with him than I care to mention. I listened to him scream-not cry, not whine…scream-in agony because his stomach was hurting. It was in those moments that I looked into the eyes of my crying baby, that I fully grasped what being a a mother is.
I get overwhelmed some days by how much I love and adore my child. Not in a “my child is perfect and I give him everything he wants” way. But in a “Wow. I brought this amazing little gift into the world and he’s my responsibility” kind of way. It’s heart stopping to sit back and realize just how important parents are to their children; how vital a solid relationship and consistent presence is in their life. It’s a full time responsibility, met with lots of challenges along the way, but it’s worth it.
Sharing this post this week with Just Be Enough, Just Write and Pour Your Heart Out.
I never would have guessed all the ways that my life would change after having a baby.
Being a mom is really something so unique and unlike anything else you ever do with your life. It’s amazing, really. What a sweet post!
It’s knowing that the birth of your child was the catalyst for most of what has gone wrong with your life since the birth took place (and there has been a lot of bad stuff going on for me) and loving your child anyway. And not in a spiteful “I-love-you-even-though-you-ruined-my-life” kind of way, but a genuine “I didn’t know love could be like this” kind of way.
As an adoptive mom, I have NEVER beleived giving birth defined motherhood.
To your list I would add the realization that “saying no for your own good may make you dislike me. And that’s okay. We’ll work it out.”