Thoughts on Mommyhood and why you should never give up on this dream

I am a mom. I tell myself this everyday, lest I forget all the days before when I wasn't a mom. I haven't forgotten that longing. It pains me to know that so many others are still in that boat, bobbing up and down at sea and watching all the other mommy boats float past. I was stuck in those waters for many years wondering if I would sink or swim.

And people would say,
"I'll sell you my two-year old!"
"Enjoy your sleep while you can!"
"At least you can travel!"
People will say silly things in order to feel better about your situation. But what they are not telling you is that they would never, not in a million years even if it was legal, sell you their two-year old. They know that no amount of sleeping on your stomach in between soft white pima cotton sheets would ever make up for seeing your baby shoot you a big milky smile at 4 o'clock in the morning. No adventure to the farthest antipodes in search of the world's best gelato could replace the love you will have for your own child.

I am a mom. Among others things. But right now, it's my newest, bravest endeavor. And this job is so much harder than anything else I've ever done. This coming from someone who once went a whole year without eating a cheeseburger. My little one is currently in the next room not taking a nap for the second time today which means I've started and stopped this post about 77 times. She is a wild one, my girl. Sometimes I wonder how God can stuff a spirit this big into a body that small?

I often wonder what I would say to someone still bobbing.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Now that I'm in the mommy boat.
That is.
There is a reason you want this.
I remember thinking, Why is this so hard? Why do I need this so much? Why does it hurt so bad? I will tell you, there is a reason your heart is pricked every month you are not pregnant. There is a reason your uterus skips a beat when you drive past a park with an empty swing. And there is a reason it may feel like something, someone, is missing from your nest. And when the doctor/midwife/husband/birth-mother hands you that baby for the first time you will absolutely believe in miracles. You will feel bigger than the universe in that moment. The heart-break will begin to fade as pure love fills your soul and you will want to burst from the inside out. You will be proud of yourself for not giving up on this dream. You fought for her. For him. For them. No one can ever take that from you. It is MAGIC.
That is the reason you've wanted this so very very much.
Don't give up. It is that good.

I am her mom. I pray every day that she will grow slow so I can watch her with eyes wide open, but even still, it's all happening way too fast for this new momma. Some days she does not want to be put down, she wants me to hold her, with her bum resting on my forearm, head perched on my shoulder so she can see the world as I piddle around the house attempting to do one-handed jobs. Other days she wants me to swaddle her and rock her back and forth as she sleeps against my warm body. And when my back is aching and my arms are numb and I'm looking at the clock wondering when Daddy will be home, I think how can I deny her this? I've never wanted to be good at anything as much as I want to be good at this, at motherhood. The learning curve is steep and sometimes unforgiving, but it's amazing all the same. When our two gazes lock my heart stops and I get the sense that she can see me, right to my very core, and she knows I'm her momma and we are together again.

via Kill Bill v. II

Just trust me, there is a reason you want this. Someday you'll know what it is. Keep fighting, and I'll be praying for you, too. In the meantime, enjoy your sleep and travel the world!
P.S. I've got a gassy 2 month old infant for sale if anyone is interested... ;).