Before I was your mother

My dearest little Madeline,

Before I was your mother, I thought I could only love someone who knew how to love me back.

Before I was your mother I was scared of things like taxes and the return of slouch boots. Now, I know the only things in the world that scare me are the things that could hurt you. In the same breath, I've never been so fearless in my life. I could kill a spider or a human being if someone was trying to hurt you.

I thought I knew myself. I thought I knew that my life was ok without diapers, pacifiers, and certainly without lanolin cream. Going to the theater, reading a book, and enjoying peaceful solitude were nearly daily activities.

Before I was your mother, it never bothered me that I hadn't felt a child move inside me. But when I did, I was paralyzed.

I never considered myself a selfish person. But staying at home with you has shown me that, despite my daily quest to put myself second, I seem to still look out for number one.

Before I was your mother I never worried about things like autism, and I never stopped to smile at a baby and mother on the street, my heart gladdened simply at their presence. It never occur ed to me that at night, before she finally drifted off to sleep she always said a prayer for her little one to protect them from everything she couldn't.

Before I was your mother I spent an hour a day putting on makeup and nice clothes to go to a job I adored. Now I spend a minute a day putting my hair in a ponytail and putting on some cozy sweats to hide some of that padding you seemed to feel was so necessary.

Before I was your mother a baby crying in a restaurant made me roll my eyes, now it pains my heart.

Before I was your mother I read Vogue.

Before I was your mother, I didn't know that simply watching someone breathe would give me a peace and comfort unparallel to a paycheck.

I would never believe I could spend an hour holding you in my arms, crying softly because you were getting too big to hold.

Before I was your mother, I didn't really understand or appreciate mine.

It's getting harder and harder to remember what was important to me, before I was your mother.