I Made Her a Mommy...

So as part of my "30 Before 30" to do list, I decided to write a letter to each of my family members and loved ones to tell them why I love them.  I'll admit I haven't gotten very far yet, but my first letter just simply *had* to be written to my mother.  And in writing it, I kind of arrived at a bit of a paradigm.  I wrote her letter to her and it's hers...but I decided I wanted to elaborate on it a little and share a bit of my heart here with you.  Thus this post...

Why I Love My Mother

Well...I love her because she's my mom.  If that seems cliche...let me let you in on my world for a minute.  Help you to understand why the statement "she's my mom" holds so much more weight for me.  You see, after 5 years of trying unsuccessfully to have children, I have arrived at a striking reality about my own mother.  I can put myself in her shoes and empathize with her heart those 30 years ago when she and Daddy "started trying".  I can see her taking those negative home pregnancy tests and being disappointed.  I can see her dreaming about a baby.  Talking about baby names, planning a nursery, thinking about the future.  I can imagine how desperately she wanted a baby.  I *know*.  Because I'm there.  I know how she must have longed.  Though it thankfully only took her and my father a short 6 months to conceive, I now know on a deeper level how much she must have wanted me...

And I know how ecstatic she must have felt when she finally saw those 2 pink lines.  I can imagine her hands shaking with that test in her fingers.  I can imagine my dad freaking out with excitement.  And it was *me* who put those two pink lines there.  It was my little tiny growing body that changed her life forever.  It was my life that consumed her thoughts immediately.  It was me...

And so I love her because she wanted me.  I love her because I understand on a deeper level the love of a mother.  No, I don't have my own children yet.  I can't tell you how many times I've heard "Well when you have kids you'll understand."  And I agree.  I know there are things I will never truly understand until I have my own babies.  And I truly long for that understanding.  But I *do* know that this road of infertility and loss has helped me appreciate the love of my mother much, much more.  I can grasp the concept of longing for a child, hoping for that precious miracle, dreaming about those two pink lines, that tiny heartbeat, that brand new life...

I can imagine what she must have felt when she saw me for the first time.  After 4 hours of labor without pain meds.  All that work, all that pain, all those months.  And there was her "magnum opus" staring right back at her.  With my dark fuzzy hair and tiny little fingers and toes and crinkled baby nose.  I imagine the nurses handing me over all bundled up and cozy into her arms.  I imagine her kissing my head and saying "Hi baby!  I'm your mommy!".  I imagine how intoxicating the smell of the top of my newborn head must have been for her...how glorious it was for my soft untouched skin to touch hers.  And for a moment I was all hers...

So, my friends, *that* is why I love my mother.  There are a million other reasons, but that is my favorite.  I love her because I *know* how much she loved me before she knew me...and it was me who made her a Mommy...