Mother’s Day Reflections

This year, I am celebrating my tenth Mother’s Day, and I’m feeling a little sentimental.

I remember taking my daughter, Naomi, to church for the first time on my very first Mother’s Day. She was about 6 weeks old and still a tiny little thing, practically swallowed up by the big, fluffy pink dress I’d put on her.

I had so many feelings that day.

As a first-time mom with a newborn, I was nervous about taking my baby to a public place with so many people for the first time.

Would the noise be too much for her?

Would I spend the entire service slapping people’s gross hands away from my baby’s hands and face?

Would I look good in my dress, with an impressive amount of snap-back? (Ugh, I know. But this was a real concern. ??)

But mostly, I remember feeling like that first Mother’s Day wasn’t really for me. Sure, I had a baby…but was I really a mom?

I remember feeling like that first Mother’s Day wasn’t really for me. Sure, I had a baby…but was I really a mom?

I do remember feeling proud of having birthed a whole new human, naturally and without any drugs or medical intervention.

But I didn’t feel like having a baby meant that I deserved to consider myself a “real mom” yet.

My feelings have since shifted quite a bit.

Mothering is a big task that involves an infinite number of tiny, everyday moments, sprinkled in with life lessons and countless experiments.

There’s no one right way to do it. Which is a good thing, because no one does it the exact same way.

I’m a different kind of mom today than I was 10 years ago, which is appropriate because I’ve got a different kind of kid today.

And every thing I’ve done to get to this point with her—the sacrifices I’ve made, the lessons I’ve learned, the mistakes I’ve made, the love I’ve shown—it has all counted.

In motherhood, it all counts. Nothing is wasted.