Story of A Mom

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3 years ago

I snapped.

I screamed to be left alone, to stop pulling on my pant leg.

Please, just let me do these fucking dishes!

I threw the plate in the sink, leaving a chip on the side that I know will continue to grow, the same way this chip in my mama heart may, always reminding me of this moment.

I turned and I cracked.

My heart cracked as I saw my daughter panic, looking for someone to run to, someone to save her, from me.

But she didn’t find the arms of anyone else.

She ran to me with tears streaming down her cheeks, rosy and round from toddlerhood.

My heart cracked again when I scooped her into my arms and she squeezed with much more force than I expected for a tiny, not even two year old, body.

She squeezed with relief, with fear and confusion. His arms tightening around my neck.

But this doesn’t make me feel suffocated. It makes me feel grateful.

Grateful that her love is unconditional. Grateful that she exists, and continues to not only challenge me, but to save me.

She makes me a better person, and when I’m not, she forgives me.

We just melted there together. Our bodies relaxing into one another, knowing we’re safe.

Home.

Her hand reached up to touch my cheeks while I whispered how sorry I was for getting upset, how loved she is, how amazing she is.

And then she closed his eyes, and we both let it all go.

And now she’s here, snuggling me and sleeping peacefully, as if 20 minutes ago never happened.

My daughter is everything I want to be.

Loving.

Caring.

Forgiving.

Strong.

Emotive.

Empathetic.

Resilient.

I am by no means a perfect mom. I mess up all the time, even still.

But one thing I know for sure is that I was made to be her mom. I was created to create her. I exist so that she could.

I find comfort knowing that while I’m not perfect, I am her. I am HER mama, and that’s because I’m the best mama for her.

I’ve got this, even when I don’t.

Losing your cool doesn’t make you a bad mom.

Getting frustrated and touched out, doesn’t make you a bad mom.

Wanting alone time, doesn’t make you a bad mom.

Even worrying if it does, makes you a good mom.

Mama’s, we were chosen for our babies. They were hand picked for us. And us for them.

We’ve got this, even when we feel like we don’t.

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