I choose to believe that we all are born into this world dreaming. Seriously. Have you ever watched a baby sleep? One minute they have the most peaceful face and the next minute the biggest smile forms across their face. I’d like to imagine they dream about being held, playing with their daddy, and milk. As we grow older we dream about a variety of things. We dream about becoming that superhero you saw on tv, about getting out of school and playing with friends, about getting that college degree you hope for, about planning that “dream” vacation you swear you’ll save up for, about starting that business you’ve worked so hard at, and about becoming what you’ve always wanted to be. For some, it’s being a lawyer, a business owner, a writer, a professor, a chef, and anything and everything else one can dream they can become. For me, it was always to be a wife . . . and a mother.
Though we knew we wanted children Brian and I chose to “wait” and spent three years together – just the two of us. I selfishly wanted him all to myself and wanted to have a strong foundation in our marriage before introducing a child we would forever care for. Those three years were greater than I could have ever dreamed of and I hoped we’d “know when the time was right.” Though there is never the “right time” for most, I do remember the moment I knew “it was time.” I was driving home from work (I worked four hours aways from where we lived at the time) and heard a story on the radio about families and children and found myself weeping . . . it was in that moment (for some reason I will never understand) that my heart knew our family of two was ready to grow. I spent the rest of the drive praying and asking God for guidance in this “decision” knowing it would be His will for us, and not our own. I couldn’t wait to tell Brian because I knew he’d say, “well let’s do it” (no pun intended) because if I had to bet, he would have asked for us to try much sooner.
One month later . . . I once again found myself weeping those long four hours home to tell Brian the most exciting news ever. He was a daddy.
And I was a mommy. I loved our baby the second I had a positive line and love him even more as I type and see his precious swaddled self in his crib on the baby monitor. I loved knowing God gave us the gift in getting to create a human, I loved knowing I would be the one to help our baby grow, I loved knowing we wouldn’t know the sex of our baby until it arrived, and I loved knowing he or she would be who made me a mother.
Though I did not enjoy being pregnant (yes, I was one of those) I did love every minute knowing this child would be our greatest gift! Fast forward 41 weeks and the stubborn little one finally arrived . . . a beautiful and perfect boy. A boy who we would call Miller and a boy who opened parts of our hearts we never knew existed.
Since his arrival I can honestly say I love everything about motherhood. Yes I love the middle of the night feedings, the poopy blowouts, the cries, the times his daddy hands him over to me because he can’t calm him, and yes I am even learning to love my new “mom bod.” (any advice for learning to love your stretch marks and mommy tummy are welcomed!) Like all moms, I have my moments where I run to target and leave the boys at home just so I can have my ONE hour alone or wake up at 2am just so I enjoy a late night warm snack by myself (I now find myself only eating my food cold haha). But as soon as that moment is over, I am absolutely ready to kiss my husband and squeeze my big guy again.
A friend asked me today, “is motherhood what you expected?” I took a moment and did my best to think if there was anything I was “not ready for” or was not expecting and I came up with nothing. Yes, I was not prepared for how much my body would change during pregnancy and after . . . but what was prepared was my heart. My heart was ready and the second he was placed on my chest, being a mother was all I knew. Motherhood is for me . . . and it’s my kind of motherhood.
love always, kylie
All pictures taken by Moments of Grace Photography.