Then I got pregnant. During those first few months, I wondered how being a mother was going to change my life. And I felt a bit of resentment. I was scared. I worried about what kind of mother I would be because what kind of mother resents being a mother.
I think even my mother worried. I was at a family BBQ and my mother was holding someone’s newborn baby. “Here,” she said trying to thrust the baby into my arms, “practice holding a baby.” I shook my head and folded my arms tightly over my belly. “I am not practicing on anyone’s baby but my own.” I was five months pregnant and still wanted nothing to do with babies.
The week I turned 30 years old, I found out I was having a boy. And it became real. I registered for baby things, began buying clothes and toys. Shopping for baby was easy and fun. It was everything else that still worried me.
The first time I held Norrin in my arms, every fear faded away. Nothing else mattered. My life now revolved around another human being. I was okay with it. It was comforting.
By the time I was pregnant again, I had settled into my role as a mother. I was still balancing a full-time job and taking college courses at night. I was still reading and writing. And while my life plan had been altered, I still had a plan. This one included children.
In my 16th week OB-GYN visit, I was told the baby had died. A “missed miscarriage,” they called it. The weeks that followed were the darkest and loneliest of my life.
It was Norrin who helped me through my depression. All I wanted to do was stay in bed and cry. But he was only four years old, he needed me. And I needed him.
My loss made me realize how much motherhood meant to me. The thing I never wanted to be, became one of the things that defined me. Being a mother changed my life in every possible way. And it has been a blessing. Motherhood has brought me a joy I never knew could be possible.
Ten years ago, I had no desire to be a mother. Now I couldn’t imagine my life without being one.