After having my first child, one of the phenomenons that marvelled me was the raging effect that my hormones experienced post-partum. I recall sitting on my front porch with my swollen belly and voraciously reading pregnancy preparation books. I would talk to well meaning family and friends during the day and obsessively scour websites late into the night. Yet, there I was, stupefied in the midst of grappling with the emotions of new motherhood; crying without explanation at the mere viewing of a harmless TV commercial.
Evidently, from the moment I saw the pitch black hairs on my first daughter's sweet little round head, my life was forever changed. Before her entrance into the world, I would have visions of not being able to hold her properly, that I would allow my clumsiness to takeover and she would be left to the mercy of my pitiful ineptness.
And while I hesitate to use a term that I know has been used many times before, I will take the risk and use it again...it was all just natural. Once she was placed into my arms, it felt right, as though my arms were a snug pocket custom designed for her. My fears of dropping her dissipated and my protective instinct prevailed. An instinct that has marked the greatest transformation in becoming a mother.  |
| Photo credit: depthsoflove.blogspot.com |
I still have my own fears as I go through my adventures in life, however, they do not even compare to the worries that sometimes overcome me when I think of my two children. If their school bus is a few minutes late, I start envisioning scenarios that fill me with angst. When I see the school's name appearing on my cell phone, the rhythm of my heart beat increases its pace and my "hello" is breathlessly brusque.
It is in those precious moments that understanding casts its light in my mind's eye. I begin to empathize with the fears that seized my mother when at the age of 8, I decided to play in the park one snowy afternoon after school instead of coming straight home. As I watched with my pert nose pressed up against the window, I'll never forget seeing the tears streaming down her face as she walked up the front porch stairs (having assumed I'd gone missing), before realizing that I was indeed home.
The bittersweet stresses that come with motherhood are indelible. I live and breathe the touching knowledge that my life changed that one fateful day when beautiful being(s) entered my life, and a pure innocent love overcame me and I became eternally besotted.
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| Photo credit: mirror.co.uk |
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Submitted by Liz Marques Kogan, a momstown Milton member and
mother of two children. Her blog is OrchidaForever.
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