Becoming a Mother

There are women that become mothers without effort, without thought, without patience, or loss - and though they are good mothers and love their children, I know that I will be better.

I will be better not because of genetics, or money, or that I have read more books, but because I have struggled and toiled for these children. I have longed and waited. I have cried and prayed. I have endured and planned over and over again. Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams. I will notice everything about my children. I will take time to watch them sleep, explore and discover. I will marvel at these miracles every day for the rest of my life.

I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night (well, sort of) to the sound of my children, knowing that I can comfort, hold and feed them and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot or cry tears of a broken dream. My dream is alive in a crib, and crying for me.

I count myself lucky in this sense; that I have been given this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my children that no one else will see.

I will be a better mother for all that I have endured. I am a better wife, a better daughter, neighbor, friend and sister because I have known pain. I know disillusionment as I have been betrayed by my own body. I have been tried by a fire many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.

• I have prevailed.


• I have succeeded.
  
• I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort. I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs. I listen. And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely. I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth and when life is beyond hard. I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes.