I wasn’t prepared to become a mother when my son was born just six short months ago. But I didn’t know it at the time. After all, I had the crib and clothes and boxes and boxes of diapers. I had taken birthing classes and child development courses and had done my share of babysitting. And this wasn’t a surprise pregnancy. I had consciously made the decision to have a baby. My husband and I planned the timing—as much as it is possible to do that. We waited a while after we were married, because we wanted to make sure that we were “ready” to have kids.
But I wasn’t ready to be a mom. I just wasn’t prepared.
I Wasn’t Prepared for Motherhood
I wasn’t prepared for my body to suddenly start producing enough milk to feed a small village. I wasn’t prepared for the ache in my back that came from constantly bending to pick up my child and then carry him around until he fell asleep. I wasn’t prepared for a child who wanted to be in my arms constantly—or what that would do to my social life. I wasn’t prepared for the yellow poop that spread all up the back of his clothes 3-4 times a day or the spit-up that would sporadically cascade down my neck and chest when I was least expecting it. I wasn’t prepared for the months and months of running on empty because, between worrying about SIDS and listening to my son scream, I hadn’t been blessed with sleep. And I definitely wasn’t prepared to be thrown-up on the moment that I finally did drift off to sleep.
And I wasn’t prepared for how much I would love him.
I wasn’t prepared for how he would fit so perfectly in my arms—no matter how much he grows. I wasn’t prepared for the feeling that would rise up in my chest and completely overtake me as I watched him take his first breath. I wasn’t prepared for his little fingers to wind their way through mine, and then for us to snuggle up holding hands. I wasn’t prepared for how worried I would be about him, that I would lay my hand on his chest just to feel it rise and fall as he slept. I wasn’t prepared for how much I would ache for him when he is sick or hurt or afraid. I wasn’t prepared for the pride that would well up inside of me whenever he managed to achieve some new feat—no matter how small. I wasn’t prepared for his big, beautiful smile or his infectious little laugh.
And I definitely wasn’t prepared for how immediately he would love me.
Me. He loves me—for no other reason than the fact that I am his mama.
This child—this perfect little human, who was recently just a couple of cells inside my body, this miracle of nature who just barely came into being—has changed me. In just six months, he has taken a woman who had spent 28 years constructing herself, and completely transformed her. He has made me into something new.
He has made me a mother.
And suddenly I understand. I understand that fierceness that drives a mother to give everything she has for the good of her child. I understand that surge of adrenaline that enables mothers to defy logic and science, simply because, in that moment, their child needs them. I understand the desire to change the world, to move entire mountains and whole continents and even planets in the galaxy, in order to make the world my child lives in a better place to be.
And I appreciate my mother for loving me that much. All of the years and years of Mother’s Days when I told her I appreciated her and all of her efforts, I wasn’t telling the truth. I couldn’t totally appreciate her, because I didn’t really understand.
I couldn’t know how her heart ached with my sorrows, how her mind was always occupied with my welfare, how much she deeply desired for me to have everything the world could offer—and of course how much poop she had to clean up—until I was in her place.
I am so grateful to my mom for being that person for me, and I’m grateful to my sweet child for being born and giving me the opportunity to learn to be that person too.
Wow, thank you, thank you for this, thank you for putting into words what my heart has felt when my son was born 8 months ago, thank you for the bareness and honesty you wrote this with… It blessed me so much, I can’t even describe it…
Thank you,
Beautiful, just an exquisite encapsulation of everything we all feel. Especially the bit about your own mum. I bang on and on about that to everyone but have never heard anyone else say it.
Thank you for saying what a mother feels when she marvels at the wonder of having a child of her own. The incredible miracle of it is overwhelming, as you said, even when you are so tired you can’t stay awake, you wouldn’t change having this child for anything. I have seven wonderful children, who now are my source of love and support in my old age. I would never have missed having even one of them – they are all wonderful. And the iove has grown with the arrival of precious and equally loved grandchildren and great grandchildren. They are life’s greatest blessing.
What a beautiful article! I especially love this revelation: “I wasn’t prepared for how he would fit so perfectly in my arms — no matter how much he grows.”
For me, it’s still true today even though my 15-year-old is taller than I am and my 12-year-old is quickly growing like a weed. They both still fit perfectly. And they always will.
I was just going to say the same thing. My son is 17 and much taller than I, yet the fit is still perfect. And I am grateful that each night he still hugs me goodnight! And a 16 year old daughter who tells me how pretty I am and how good I smell, how cute my nose is and how soft my skin and hair is. I wasn’t prepared for all the hard parts about being a mother, but I was even less prepared for the love my children shower over me. We are truly blessed to have children and the experience to know how heavenly parents must feel about us.
This is such a great post. I couldn’t have wrote it better myself and you’ve really captured how a lot of exhausted mums feel. But the love you feel when you know you have created such a tiny beautiful human being is overwhelming!!