Easily, the most important two days of my life are the days my sons were born. No question. But if I dig deeper, I would say the day my first son was born is the most important day of my life because it is the day I became a mother. I passed through that door of never returning into a world so big and beautiful and full of love and terror like I have never known. It paved the way for a life that finally had a true and deep meaning. I am mama, which is my reason for being.
For nine months I gestated the idea that I might take what I learned from some books and some advice and a few instincts and turn it all into who I am to my very core.
I wasn’t even a kid person. I’m still not, quite honestly. But my sons and my son-once-removed (read: nephew) have transformed me into absolute mamaness. I now exist to guide them, nurture them, keep them safe, and love them no matter what. And while it scares me more than anything, it fills me up with that feeling that I won’t even name. Anyway, only a mama will know it. She wouldn’t name it either.
The day I held my baby to my chest, fed him from my body, spoke to him in a voice that he loved more than anything, I became who I was always meant to be but never knew.
And I grew into my role as mama. I fumbled at first, and still. I had moments of doubt and regret. I had moments of wanting to be anywhereelsebuthere. No matter. This mamaness still defines me even in moments when I run from it.
Every day I am a mama, first. This simple fact colors my days and life. Ever since that day eleven-some years ago when I went from having a mind full of tips on parenthood and a body full of fetus and fluid to having an empty womb and a full heart, I have been this thing—this highest of honors. That day of leisure, of emotion, of tracking, of quick and steady intensity, of unbeknownst dilation, of five pushes that were anything but me pushing—more like the universe pulling a baby out of me in waves. Nothing could have prepared me and yet I had been preparing since the beginning of time itself.
That perfect day, idyllic really. Almost a fairytale. A story most women would scoff at. Luck plucked me by the shoulder this time, I suppose. Maybe I got a reprieve. I was blessed amidst suffering. An oasis in my life. Who knows. I am grateful to have birthed in the most beautiful way a most beautiful son who, to this day, fills my heart with more love than I can comprehend.