Wednesday, July 27, 2011

On Motherhood

On March 3, 2011, I walked into the unfamiliar territory of motherhood to find that my surroundings were far more pleasant than they were on March 2, or any other time before that.  I thought that my lawn was green enough, but the comforting emerald carpet that was the grass of being a parent was much brighter.  It always seems to be that way on the other side, but this time I was able to leap the fence.

Motherhood has changed me in ways unimaginable.  It's supposed to change you.  Watching my daughter grow from that first blurry black-and-white image of a twitching fetus into the smiling, inquisitive infant she is today has taught me more than all my combined 27 years of experience in this life could offer.  Nurturing another human being requires patience, a sense of humor, humility and love.  These things in my past life simply didn't exist as they do today if they ever really existed at all.

I call my life before June 27, 2010, the day I found out I was pregnant, my past life because I feel as though I was reborn into this new role, as if all my years spent living as a gluttonous caterpillar meant nothing to the butterfly I am today.  I ask nothing of my past but that it fade over time; it is the rug upon which I stand tall today, it's pile crushed beneath my feet as I now walk with purpose.

Watching my daughter discover life every single day, watching her live with wonder and awe as an innocent person not yet jaded by the cold realities this world can thrust upon us, makes me appreciate humanity more and gives me great hope.  We all start this way, tiny and helpless, and regardless of who we are and what we have become, we can always return to such innocence and simple grace in the presence of a child. 

We all have a lot to learn about how we treat each other, and my best professor in this necessary lesson has been my daughter Evelyn with the help of her assistant, Motherhood.  I thank God every day that He has given me this opportunity, and I see Him every time I look into my daughter's smiling eyes.