Dear Mom, Before They Were Mine, I Was Yours

Mom...
Before they were mine, I was yours.
Before they wrapped their tiny little hands around my finger I wrapped mine around yours.
Before I knew how to walk you taught me I could fly.
Before I learned to doubt, you taught me to always believe. 
Before they were mine, I was yours.

Mom...
When the world felt too big, you made it feel like home.
When the journey felt too long, you reminded me to take one step at a time.
When the heartache felt unbearable you reminded me to breathe.
When my dreams seemed far fetched, you helped me reach higher.
When the world felt too big, you made it feel like home.

Mom...
When it rained, you made me look forward to the rainbow.
When I felt stuck in the storm you handed me an umbrella and told me to dance in the rain.
When the sun was shining you made sure we soaked it in together.
And together, we jumped into the ocean, and leaped into the lake. Together, we chased fireflies, and picked dandelions.
When it rained, you made me look forward to the rainbow.

Mom...
Before they were mine I was yours.
Before someone called me mama, you showed me what it was to be a mom.
Before I felt my heart grow, you taught me it was possible.
Before I held my sweet baby boys for the first time, you told me they would be the best gift I had ever received. You were right.
Sometimes when I hold their hands, I remember holding yours. I remember you brushing my hair, and telling me the world was waiting for us, and sometimes, I remember our days at the lake...when the world stopped for us.
Before they were mine, I was yours.

To My Husband on Mother's Day

The other night after dinner I went for a walk with our oldest son. It’s rare that the two of us have time alone together these days. Which is funny because there was a time when that was all we had. We had alone time almost every day. As we were walking he was asking a lot of questions which of course is nothing new. The sun was at that point right before it begins to set. It’s my favorite part of the day this time of year. The breeze was blowing and I looked at my oldest boy and I couldn’t help feeling nostalgic. I looked at his sweet face and I realized how much he has changed. He is becoming a beautiful little boy. He is learning about the world and about life. I could see the change in his face. There is still of course a sense of wonder, but somehow there is also a sense of knowledge.  At that moment he turned to me and asked, “Mommy, if you and daddy didn’t meet would I be here?”  The simple answer is no but I thought about it for a minute.

 There is something about the change of the seasons. There is a feeling of joy when the cold air gets washed away by a warm breeze. There is something about the way the sun feels just as it is about to set for the night, the way it lingers a little bit longer than it does in the dead of winter. When we met the change was already happening. The breeze was warm, the sun was staying around longer and whether we knew it or not a change was upon both of us.

Our love story was not one pulled from a movie or a novel. We were two regular people who met and went out on a date.  We laughed. We talked. We drank too much sangria and we knew we wanted to see each other again.  It was a great first date.  It was a date that led to many more. Before we knew it the summer was fading and the leaves were changing. The air was shifting again. It was around that time that I knew we were falling in love. Fall turned into winter and winter turned to spring. It was that spring that you asked me to be your wife.

I spent the next six months planning the wedding I had always dreamed of having. I chose the flowers and the place. I tried on four dresses until I found “the one.” I picked out the perfect invitations. We chose the band. We planned our honeymoon. It was all I had hoped for and more.

As I stood on the altar that day and said the words that would make me your wife I could never have imagined what they would really mean to me one day. After all how can you know the true meaning of words until you live them? How can you know just how much they mean until the dress is put away, the guests have all gone home and life together actually begins?  I don’t think you can.

Our wedding day does not tell our story. It’s the day our story began.  You can make plans on how your life is going to go but life does not always go according to those plans.  We knew we wanted a family. We had just moved into a new home and I was screaming “baby!!” from every room in that house even if I was not actually screaming it out loud, you knew.  We decided it was time and we were blessed that it did not take long to find out we were in fact going to be parents. 

When we went for our first ultrasound we knew something was wrong. We knew by the look on the technician’s face. It was then that we found out our baby had no heartbeat and we were devastated. That night I went for a walk, alone. I wanted to be alone. You sat in our kitchen with my mother and I went for a walk.  I walked with the warm breeze washing the tears from my face. I felt the sun as it was getting ready to sink for the night and I wondered what the future held for us. I wanted to be a mother so badly but I made a promise that day that no matter what I would not allow that moment to define me. I would not allow it to define us.

The summer came and went and as the fall breeze arrived we found out we were expecting. Everything went as planned that pregnancy and we welcomed our first beautiful son the following summer. Life was beautiful. Our son’s first year of life flew by faster than the seasons seemed to change and before we knew it he was a walking, talking toddler.

The fall came and the winter followed. It was a regular morning for me. I changed the baby. Put him in his high chair and made the coffee. You came home from a doctor appointment and sat at the kitchen table staring at the wall. “Do you want some coffee?” I asked.  “No thanks. I need open heart surgery.” you replied.  I could feel the shift again. The winter was here to stay. I stood in our kitchen hoping that you were joking, but knowing that you were not.  I looked at our son. I looked at you.  “When?”  “Thursday.” you replied. It was Monday. It was an aortic aneurysm. We didn’t plan for this. How could we have planned for this?

We made it through that surgery and that winter. The seasons changed again and life was happy. We welcomed another beautiful boy a couple of years later. A couple years into his life we found out he too has an aortic aneurysm and while we were both scared we decided to tackle it the only way we know how, head on. He is our brave little bull and somehow when we least expect it, it’s our kids who teach us how to be brave.

 Our lives have been full of seasons filled with memories. Summers of swimming, running in the yard, giggling under the stars, and making S’mores. Winters have been filled with holiday traditions, skiing, sledding and ice skating (or really just ice falling.) Our Falls have been filled with apple picking, hiking, fishing, and football watching.  Springs have been filled with bike riding, star gazing, movie watching, and flower picking.

Looking back I realize now that the dress meant nothing. The flowers meant nothing. The place meant nothing. Marriage is not built on these things. Marriage is built on all the things that come after the wedding. It is built on the ups and the downs. It is built on the past and the present. It is built on the good and the bad. It is built on the changes that come just like the seasons. You have held my hand during the birth of two beautiful boys. You have made me laugh when I needed it the most. You have loved me at my worst. You have made me feel my best. We have fought the fight. We have been met with surprises and dealt with them together.  

When I think about how to answer our son the obvious answer is no, he would not be here if you and I had not met. It’s so much more than that though.  I can’t help but feel thankful for you on Mother’s Day. A thousand Mother’s Days could come and go but you have already given me the best and only gift I will ever need. You made me a mother.  You give me laughter for the rough days and support for all the days in between.  We did not just make a house together, we created a home.  As I walk with our oldest son and the sun warms my face and the breeze blows the warm spring air I can feel that summer is upon us. I am reminded that both our boys will turn another year older this season. I am reminded of just how lucky we are. Life might not always go as planned but it certainly seems like the change of the seasons has always brought us life. It might not always be the life I planned for but it is definitely the life I always wanted. Thank you for making me a mother. 

What I'm listening to:

My Village

I've been missing from my blog recently. My Grandmother is very ill and in the hospital. As a family we have pulled together and made spending time with her our number one priority. Many of you have reached out to me on my Facebook page and I want to thank you for your support, prayers and well wishes. I am re-posting a post I wrote this past Mother's Day. To me it encompasses exactly who my grandmother is to me because without her wisdom, her experience and her love I wouldn't be half the mom I am today. This is for her.

It’s Mother’s Day and I could get all sappy and mushy and write all about what being a mom means to me. I could, but I won’t, not because it doesn’t mean a lot to me because anyone who knows me or reads my blog, or my Twitter or my Facebook knows that I love my kids. They make me laugh, they make me cry but they make me who I am and I wouldn’t change it for anything. Instead I would like to dedicate this post to all the people in my life who made the transition from normalcy to motherhood better for me. To all those who have helped me, laughed with me not at me, cried with me, empathized with me, shared a glass or 8 of wine with me, and so on and so on.  I like to refer to “these people” as my village. I have always heard the saying it takes a village to raise a child, but I like to look at it like it takes a village to support a good mom to raise a child.

As moms we all need our village and it doesn’t mean the same thing for all of us but we all know who they are. They are the people we lean on. They are the people we complain to about our bad days and celebrate with on our good ones. They are the people you talk to about things you never imagined talking about…EVER. They are the people who tell you this stage will pass, or ask you how on earth you managed something so they too can do it. They are your people and without them life would be so much harder.

I remember when I had my oldest son. I was THAT mom. You know the one who had everything planned out. The one who thought well I’m going to have this adorable baby, come home get up every couple of hours blissfully breastfeed, go back to bed and get up, shower look great etc. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA do you hear that? Yeah that’s the universe laughing its ass off at my naivety.  I leaned on many after my stubborn attitude of I can do this myself subsided. I slowly started to learn that there were women in my life that had done this, done it well and they were there for me. I also learned that there were women in my life who were going through it with me and we were there for each other. There were women in my life that didn’t have children yet and guess what they were sometimes the BEST voice of reason for me. (They know who they are).

Being a mom is not all rainbows & butterflies, no sir. It’s exhaustion like you’ve never experienced, it’s poop on your face all day, no shower, yoga pant wearing trips to the grocery store for baby gas relief. It can sometimes feel like you are on an island all by yourself. Only it’s not a warm tropical relaxing island. No it’s an island with two screaming kids, no help, no time for sleep, no drinks with umbrellas island. The sooner you learn to invite other boats to your island the better.  When moms get together it’s always a good time. We make each other laugh. We make each other shout THANK GOD I AM NOT THE ONLY ONE. It’s invigorating. It’s how we survive.

There have been times as a mom that I have gotten into bed at night and thought to myself if someone had told me 10 years ago that, that was going to happen I would have bet money against it. There is something about becoming a mother that makes things that would have once been a big deal in life seem so small.  Shame? What is shame? I think I lost that when every nurse and intern under the sun was coming in to check just how dilated I was.  Since having my oldest son I have allowed my best friend of over 20 years to maneuver my boob in the hopes of getting my newborn latched on. (not something I ever thought we’d be doing together). I have cried to my sister and my mother on days I felt I failed as a mother. I have called my best friend from college in the hopes of her calm way of looking at life rubbing off on me. I have celebrated peeing on a stick and seeing the plus sign with my village of girls, I have celebrated baptisms, 1^st birthdays, potty training, preschool graduations, and holidays with my village. I have cried and leaned on them through miscarriages, first fevers, trips to the emergency room and everything in between.

I have laughed until I cried about pregnancy stories, labor stories, feeding stories, potty training and all the funny stuff that comes along with this ride we are on. I have been rescued by my single girls for much needed girls nights out. I have been very lucky. My village consists of my sister, my mother, my grandmother, and my cousins (who are more like sisters) my Aunt’s, and my girlfriends, new and old. On Mother’s Day I am reminded of just how much these women mean to me.  They remind me that raising a child is not just about the family living under one roof. My husband and I make a great team but a team never has as much fun without a village cheering them on from the sidelines. My girls cheer me on, cheer me up, make me laugh, and allow me to cry. So on Mother’s Day I want to say thank you ladies, from the bottom of my heart thank you.