Celebrating Year No. 9
I cried the day I found out I was pregnant. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was my 29th birthday. I was getting ready for dinner when the phone rang. It was my doctor.
“Congratulations! You are 7 weeks pregnant!”
I sat down on the bed. Snuggled with Rocky and sobbed. Like a little baby. I was scared. Like petrified. I didn’t even like kids. I told Charlie on our second date that I didn’t want kids. How the F did I get here?
I cried a lot over the next nine months. How was I going to be a mother? What if I didn’t like my own baby? I was never the little girl that dreamed of being a mom. I didn’t really like dolls and only babysat for kids that were old enough to play video games. I never really got that “feeling” when I held a baby. I just didn’t think I had that maternal instinct.
Easily the best moment of my life. Hands down.
Ben turned nine this week. 9. I’ve been doing this Mom thing for 9 years. Am I still scared? Hell yes. I question myself a million times a day. But that “feeling” came the minute I saw his face. And just like the Grinch my small heart grew three sizes that day. Bing. It was like there was maternal instinct button.
I’ve cried a lot over the last nine years. I fully expect that number to double over the next nine years. And I’m okay with that. Being a mom is tough. Throw in that whole single mom thing. Woof. I tried to explain to him earlier this week that when he was born, no one handed me a playbook. He genuinely seemed shocked. I’m learning as I go. Moms (and Dads) make mistakes. I think it’s important for our children to see and understand that we aren’t perfect and that we can learn from our mistakes.
While we are on the topic of mistakes, the biggest one I’ve ever made was saying that I never wanted children. The day Ben was born, my life changed forever. Imagine for a second that I never married Charlie. Maybe I would have married someone else but I probably wouldn’t have become a mother. Ever. Being Ben’s mom is who I am. And I’m so grateful for that.
