The Story of a Mother's Love

The journey of motherhood is one of wonder and chaos.

It starts off with you wondering if you'll have a girl or a boy, what they will look like, what they will sound like, what they will like to do, what they will grow up to be. Then you feel your first pangs of childbirth and chaos sets in, and for the next ten or more years you will surface for a gasp of air only to be swept away by the chaos all over again...

It is a beautiful time; fill with first baths, first smiles, first steps, first words.

It is a terrifying time; filled with first poops, first pukes, first fevers, first falls!

You will be happy for things you never thought you could possibly be happy for, and you will cry over spilled milk. The smallest victories will feel like your biggest battles. You will lose yourself completely only to find yourself anew. Motherhood will take you apart piece by piece and then put you back together into a whole new shape; yet you're still you. Better. Stronger. A stranger... but still you.

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Near the beginning of my time being a mother, when my first child was just beginning to crawl, I remember watching her playing with her toys on the colorful mat in our living room. There was peace for that moment, and with time to think my mind gathered in all of the experiences I had with her thus far. I saw her happy times and how my heart was happy too. I saw her sad times and how that made me sad as well. I saw the times where others interacted with her and felt emotions similar to how those situations treated her. It was there I first thought; you are my heart outside my heart.

I didn't say it then; I kept it inside and cherished it. She was too young to understand; I wasn't ready to say it out loud. The words felt right; but I was sure I would fumble them; I need time to polish my words and write them out or my tongue will trip all over itself.

Then, quite suddenly, she had a sister, and another sister, and another sister! Chaos intensified and life raced on. Every time there was a break in the chaos and life looked like it was going to calm down we had another little one show up, or an emergency of some sort. Until finally almost sixteen years later my children are grown enough that they don't need me quite so much, and I have more time forced onto my hands from acquiring a chronic illness that saps my energy.

Now I have the time, the brain space, and the experience to pull everything from the last sixteen years together and finally write down that thought: you are my heart outside my heart. Each one of my girls is the same; a little piece of me. Each one is a unique piece of art growing into a beautiful, strong-willed woman filled with her own wonder and chaos.

I can finally say what they mean to me, I can finally breath those words that have been hiding in my heart, and I hope that by writing them down I can help other mothers articulate their feelings sooner than I did.

My youngest wants to show everyone her book now, a friends children are reading it over and over. They need that love poured into them; they thirst for the words to articulate love as much as we do.

Tell your littles you love them. Let me help.

Read: A Little Piece of Me