Sometimes when I lie in bed next to E, I still cannot believe she is mine. Everything I went through to get her here and somehow it is already a blur. Sure, my hips still creak and my body aches in new (and unexciting) ways, but mostly, I am the same.
For a brief second, without her in a store, I forget I am a mom. I feel so light without a carrier or a stroller or a diaper bag attached to me. Then suddenly I think of her and feel naked, like the people around me should be able to see such an important part of me, like they are not actually looking at me if they cannot see her too. When this feeling hits, I miss her terribly.
I imagine this sense of connection changes over the years. I often go days, if not weeks, without talking to my mom. I doubt I still define her in the same way I once did, no matter how much she loves me. Yet, for now, E defines me. I eat, sleep, and live around her schedule. Simple acts like learning how to point excite me so much that I must call her dad into the room.
I am entirely her mother, yet I am also the same person I was in 2013 and 2012 and… I always imagined motherhood was this threshold into adulthood that would change me completely. Before E was born, I worried I would never be the same. Yet, here I am, the same person with just a different focus than before.
2014 has been the most vulnerable, challenging, and wonderful year of my life. I almost don’t want to let this year go, as though I could snuggle in it forever. If only. Life keeps marching on and all I can do is hope 2015 will take its time and be as kind, or at the very least, as wondrous.
Every ounce of me is grateful to have a year I do not want to let go. I know not everyone is as lucky. Regardless of your year, I wish you the happiest of New Years because it is a chance to begin again, whether down the same beautiful path or an entirely new one.
Leap of Mama 