Growing up, I was always the type of person who could be easily influenced and always feared being seen as different. I didn’t see the value in who I was or what I had to offer. It was always hard for me to find my worth since I didn’t feel like I had any. I didn’t love or honor myself. I pretended to be strong and independent, but I was insecure and always looking for acceptance.
I thought about you long before I ever had you. As a little girl, I wanted to have a daughter when I grew up so we could play dolls and house together. But as a teen and young woman, I knew I would have a son. Thinking of boy names was a fun past time while driving home from work or sitting in a math class. I even envisioned what you would look like; I always saw a beautiful, brown haired boy with tan skin (tell me that’s not creepy!).
As the time came closer to actually starting a family, I secretly worried that it wouldn’t happen for me. I didn’t deserve it. How could I expect to become a mother after all of the mistakes I had made? I hadn’t earned the right of being someone’s mother.
When I found out I was pregnant, I knew it was with you. Everyone told me they believed I was going to have a girl and started making me feel anxious. The day I went to find out your sex, I held my breath as the technician rolled the wand over my belly. You weren’t cooperating, so they told me to go walk around and hopefully change your positioning. I paced in the bathroom and tried to slow my breathing. This was going to be the moment and I couldn’t wait any longer, I had to know. I begged you to cooperate this time. A feeling of relief spread over my body when they told me I was having a boy. Finally, I knew for sure you were with me. You were here.
I will never forget the day you were born. The contractions, the laughs surrounding me, the cool air on my forehead walking outside, your father holding me, my thighs shaking as you were coming down. But the moment that will be imprinted in my memory forever is the way you were looking at me when you were born. I held you and you stared up at me, so serious and beautiful. I had never seen anything so amazing as you.
Birthing you changed me to the core of my being. I no longer felt like I was a weak, worthless person. I was strong and full of love. I was brave and fearless. After you, no person or thing could come close to comparing to the experience of becoming your mother. It was as if I looked God in the eyes during your birth. I was never the same person again.
There will be times during your life that we might not get along too well. Right now is one of them. You are three years old and naturally stubborn and learning to be independent. You make me so proud and I want you to be stubborn and independent and know what you want. It just means that we might butt heads more often than I’d like.
I want you to know that no matter how angry or annoyed we ever get of each other, I love you more than you could ever know. Not only did you make me a mother, but you helped me find my strength and value again. You restored me. And that’s the greatest gift anyone could’ve ever given me.
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