Mama in a bubble

Me, my mum and my daughter…three generations

Me, my mum and my daughter…three generations

This Mother’s Day will be my very first as a mum and even though I’ve only been on this whirlwind adventure for eight months, I feel like I have gained the most life experience and given the most amount of love to a single person in that short period of time than any other in my life.

There are so many things my daughter has taught me, it’s hard to compile a list and I know that once I start, I’ll find it hard to put that pen down. The learning, I suppose, began as soon as I fell pregnant – what I learned about my body and how it was creating another human being was insurmountable. Nothing could prepare me for the nine months of carrying her, despite all the advice and reassurance from friends, family, books and the internet – from why I was an emotional wreck to learning what my unborn baby’s hiccups felt like.

Once that day came along when we finally saw her face, I finally understood what it was to feel  unconditional love. From the moment I held her fragile body in my arms, I asked myself, “Why hadn’t we done this earlier?!” Since September, that brown-eyed, chipmunk-cheeked little girl has taught me patience and what it’s really like to feel like the most important person in the world. Movies and books where daughters are hurt, plead for their mums, suffer from an illness or just tell their mothers how much they love them make me cry now; I feel more for children’s charities too and equal them to my favourite animal rescue not-for-profits.

I often ask myself, why do we, women, do this to ourselves? Why do we bring these little people into this world when they only make us worry – and not worry for a little while, but make us worry for the rest of our lives? We rush to their sides in times of need, whether they fall on the floor and hit their head while learning to walk, or when they endure their first relationship heartbreak. We torment ourselves, our sons and daughters at times tearing our hair out (literally) and then the guilt we feel when we leave them at daycare, or with a babysitter, just to give ourselves a time out.

But I’ve learned the positives far outweigh the negatives; yes, my daughter and I have our horrible, scream-all-day, I’m-bored-give-me-new-toys-and-activities days, but her smile when she’s happy makes those days disappear. I love her eyes when they look up at me, her arms reaching up for me when I go to pick her up, her squeals of delight when the dog or cat come near her, her eagerness at food and milk, her beautiful little feet which I could kiss all day and every day (and I absolutely hate people’s feet)…the list goes on.

This journey has made me appreciate what my own mum went through raising me and my brother and I take thanks in the sacrifices she made; I hope that I’m as good a mother as she is.

There’s not one thing I love most about being a mum…it’s all in a bubble dancing around my little girl, ready to touch her face and burst into more love. And it’s the most wonderful role of my life.

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Comments

  1. This is beautiful!! It is amazing how much children completely change us for the better.

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