I’ve been a mother for nearly four months now. It still doesn’t feel real.
Don’t get me wrong.
My baby feels real. Very real. The sweet moments when he looks at me while he nurses are real. His giggles are real. The tiny little pants and tops are real. The middle-of-the-night dirty diapers are very, very real. Our after-morning-feedings naps are real. The huge smile he gives me when I walk into the room is real and the best.
But the reality of being a mother hasn’t hit yet. A mother takes care of you when your sick. A mother cleans your vomit off of the floor because you didn’t make it to the toilet in time. A mother kisses your bumps and bruises before bandaging them. A mother helps you with your homework and cheers you on in the school play. A mother is there to be a shoulder to cry on or an ear to bend. A mother is there for you on your wedding day and the birth of your first child.
It’s hard to believe that all of these are possibilities that lie ahead of me, and that one day I may watch my son become a father and celebrate his first Father’s Day.
For the time being, I know I’m a real mom, and I’m enjoying every second of what that means for now.
P.S. For Mother’s Day–or any day, really–I highly recommend you check out Rusty’s Southern in San Francisco.