Musings on motherhood

I always wanted to be a mom. In high school, I was often referred to as the “BMM” – an awkward adolescent acronym for “baby-making machine.” This was no commentary on my moral behavior – I gave kisses away like candy and nothing else – but a reflection of my obsession with babies. I couldn’t wait to have them. I often spoke of my brood of 10 to 12 children that I would raise to be free spirits with high standards and great fashion sense. Pair that with my religion and I was somewhat of a teenage anomaly.

And did I mention I would buy baby clothes at thrift stores? (Contrary to popular belief it was not because I planned to kidnap a baby, but because I just loved to envision my own cute children in them one day. But you’ll be happy to know that they were re-donated long ago.)

But much to the surprise of myself and others – including my own father who once said he would pay me $500 if I managed to wait until I was 20 to get married … an offer rescinded once he realized I wasn’t much of a dater in college, though I was still distributing my “candy,” albeit more selectively – I did not get married young, at least by LDS standards. I managed to get in a mission and a college degree before I met my sweetheart. And we did not have children right away due to some bizarre health issues that involved menopause and radiation. Seriously.

(Stay with me people, this has a point.)

However, 3 years and 28 days after we were wed, our little one arrived. And at the ripe ol’ age of 27, I finally became a mother.

Is it everything I dreamed it would be? Oh, yes. And so much more. Motherhood is truly miraculous, and I say that knowing there are dear ones out there whose hearts will ache to think of this. But I promise each of them that it will only make their motherhood experience even sweeter when it finally happens after their long wait.

Seeing her face is like opening a can of joy. Holding her little body next to mine makes my heart swell. Even changing her diapers is oddly enjoyable. (Of course, sleep deprivation is not so charming but knowing she is just little and learning to be part of this world makes it so forgivable and bearable.)

So here’s to all those kids in high school that thought I was crazy to want to be "just a mother." (And not an astronaut or award-winning actress or anthropologist.) I might not get all 10 or 12 in this life, but the one I have is good enough for me.