I have never known such vulnerability since becoming a mother. She is my heart personified. Her arrival brought on a new level of anxiety: I had to have her crib next to our bed for the first six months, just to make sure I heard her breathe. I needed to know that she was okay. I didn't care if every coo she made woke me up, it was reassurance that she was doing well. She had been years in the making and now that she was here, I was her fierce protector.
I remember when I was little, I dislocated my wrist because I was jumping from our backyard picnic table to our monkey bars (as you do) and swung a little too high for my body's capabilities, only to come crashing down on my wrist. (sidenote, my brother's best friend thought it was the coolest thing he had ever witnessed and tried to break his own wrist the exact same way). My body went into shock and I turned white as a ghost (which only a very trained eye would ever detect). I didn't cry, but my mom sure did. As a kid, I remember thinking that it didn't make sense. Why on earth would she cry when I was the one who was hurt?
Now I get it. Every little milestone and achievement she makes, brings an overwhelming rush of joy and happiness to my heart. And when she falls and hurts herself, I feel it. When we sat in Children's hospital so the doctors could inspect the lump on her back, I smiled at her and kept her calm, and let the good-results-tears-of-relief flow when she was sleeping.
Even though she won't retain memories until she is three or four years old, I try to inject a little something special into our days, whether it's visiting friends, going on an outing, or taking her to an indoor play zone. Nothing makes me happier than seeing the joy spread across her face as she runs around with kids, plays with new toys, and looks up at me as if to say, "are you catching any of this?!?Isn't this amazing?" I want to show her the world and experience it all over again through her eyes.
Even when we do routine tasks together, like getting groceries, she sits in the cart and waves to people, which usually gets the senior citizens gathering (and in this town, there are a lot of them). It makes me so proud that they feel her happiness. A simple visit with her to my grandma's nursing home can make their day. Even though a lot of the seniors can no longer hear or string a sentence together, they smile and wave at her, and that makes my heart soar. My mom is the single most giving person I have ever encountered. Even though my grandma doesn't say much anymore and often doesn't know who any of us are, my mother goes to see her almost every day of the week, just to sit by her side and hold her hand. Motherhood isn't a job, it is a relationship. It demands the most from us and also gives us the most in return.
There are definitely days where I've been up since 5, where she has barely napped, I've barely had a chance to eat, I'm exhausted to zombie-like status and am so happy to see her call it a day at 8pm. My hubby and I have even high fived when the day is done. "She's finally asleep!" But then about a half hour later, we're looking at photos of her gushing about how awesome she is. You forget the hard parts pretty quickly.
I get teased a lot for having so many photos of her on my blog, but honestly, when your favourite hobby is photography, and your favourite subject is your child, it is easy to go a titch crazy with the ol' shutter finger. But I think the real reason I post so many photos of her is because she has single-handedly created the deepest sense of happiness within me and I want to share that feeling with you.
And now that little bundle of happiness is crying in her crib, so I better sign off. xo
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