I am a Mother

I am a mother and that means he is my everything.
He is woven into every part, every aspect, every single thing in my life.
He is my life. He is my reason.

He makes me laugh.
He makes me cry.
Because of him my heart now lives outside of my body.

I experience life, emotions and love more because of him.
I see myself reflected in him.
I see him for who he is.
I watch him grow with amazement.

I am a mother and that means I feel an overwhelming amount of joy.
I laugh when he laughs. I cry when he cries.
I rock him to sleep.
I hold him while he sleeps.
I nurse him to sleep.
I co-sleep.
I question our sleep routine.
I think about sleep. A lot.
I don't sleep that much.

I experience so many emotions in a day.
I watch him go from 0 to 100 in no time at all.
I sing to him in the car so he doesn't have a melt down.
I distract him with bells after he hits his head.
I call in reinforcements to change his diaper.

I am a mother and that means I often have boogers, or oatmeal, or breast milk on my clothes.
I wear black to hide stains.
I don't wear earrings anymore.
I cut my hair short because of the postpartum hair loss.
My body is different.
My body is shared. It is also his.
I am hungry all the time.

I am a mother and that means I eat from his little hand when he offers me food.
I share my water bottle with him.
But not my cups.
He backwashes.

He makes me slow down.
He makes me want to grow.
I want to be better for him.
I want the world for him.

I am a mother and that means I think about him all the time.
I plan activities for us.
We explore the world together.
He learns from me.
I see it fresh through his eyes.

I am a mother and that means I try my best.
I choose my words.
I also yell at our dog. He thinks that is hilarious.
I have to watch what I say.

We are tied together, he and I.
He needs me and I need him.
We are a package.

I am a mother and that means I am either way early or running late.
My car is filled with toys and soggy snacks.
I sing the same song over and over to prevent a meltdown.
A meltdown happens anyway.
He does not like the car.
No one told me that was possible - for a baby to hate the car.

I am a mother and that means I am nursing round the clock.
Mamas milk bar open 24/7.
I have scratches on my breasts and belly.
I experience the most tender moments where he is snuggled in close.
My body, my presence, calms him down.
My arms are stronger than ever.
He has bit me. Hard. He thinks that is funny too.

I get to build forts with him.
I play peek-a-boo with him.
We dance together.
We high five.
He claps for me when I sing. I sing a lot.

I am a mother and that means I have wiped his nose with my sweater.
I have been peed on.
At least once a week poop gets on my hand.
I have called his pediatrician twice now just to talk about poop.
He can go days without pooping.
I know his I'm-Gonna-Poop-Face.

I am a mother and that means it takes me a while to get things done.
I have to start a story multiple times because of interruptions, or I forgot where I was going, or my mind went blank.
My vocabulary seems to have shrunk.

I spend my days playing with him.
We laugh a lot.
He learns new things every. single. day! It's incredible.
We get outside as much as possible.
It is often a struggle to get his coat on.
But once we are outside, he is happy.

I am a mother and it is a wild journey.
I wouldn't choose any other life.
I love him so much it hurts.
He has made me a mother and it is such a blessing.
I am a mother because of him.