Friday, March 13, 2009

My love for my daughter

Most women wait their whole life for that one dream to come true... the dream above all dreams...the thing you pretend to be as a little girl, think about in highschool, and ache to be once you are "old" enough. For me that dream was to be a mommy. I remember being 3 or 4 and playing with my Cabbage Patch dolls - they each names, personalities and bed times. They were my babies. Then when my brother was born...he was my baby, only a little less obedient at times. My whole life I've wanted the experience of growing a human inside of me, feeling each kick and wiggle. I've always been intrigued by the birthing process (thus why I watched TLC's "A Baby Story" religiously every day in high school). And I've longed for the days of looking into my baby's face and just being a mom.
Last December, after losing our first baby...I thought I would be scared off by all of the pain we had experienced. I thought my desire to be a mom would fade a bit, but the opposite happened. Something inside me just screamed to be a mommy, whether by nature or by another source.
This morning as I was looking at Ava, examining every part (again) and talking with her making goofy sounds that only a mom and baby can appreciate. I got to thinking about just how natural everything feels. Changing diapers, wiping up spit up, fetching the screaming thing from its crib...they all just seem to flow for me. I love being a mom. I love going to Ava's bed in the morning and seeing her greet me with that smile like, "where ya been, momma?". I love when she has a cold and she nuzzles into my neck like I'm her medicine. I especially love that everything I do or say to her makes her smile right now - like I'm the most important person in the world. It's surreal to look at her, especially after losing one prior. My Ava Edyn...she wouldn't be here if I had gotten my way with our first pregnancy. She wouldn't be here making her silly noises, chewing on everything or focusing so hard on a toy that her eyes cross. My heart wouldn't feel this way either. I am blessed. I know that.
I love my daughter. I love the responsibility of raising her. I love how difficult the nights can be. I love how she smells, how she coos and all of her facial expressions. She is a little piece of me.
I love how being a mom changes my mind about so many things. I cry everything I see anyone else cry - no matter what the reason. My heart aches more for those who experience the loss or the long anticipation of a baby. I feel more...perhaps God intends that.

1 comment:

Kristi said...

Such a sweet post, Mandi... motherhood is a blessing. Difficult, but a blessing!