Proud to be a Mommy

When I was pregnant I heard the phrase “this is going to change your life” approximately 768,876 times.  At the end I was pretty sure my head would explode if one more person gave me the “knowing look” complete with the head tilt and said “oh, you have no idea how much your life is going to change.”  I did know.  I knew that I would be kissing happy hours, impromptu shopping trips and last-minute weekend get-aways goodbye.  I knew that in the place of my independence, I would assume the responsibility of making sure a child was fed, diapered, dressed, and oh, happy and healthy. 

The responsibility was overwhelming.  I wanted this baby.  With every fiber of my being.  I wanted to be a parent.  A Mommy.  I wanted to know the innocence of a child.  I wanted to be loved unconditionally and be needed.  I wanted those moments where a child put her hand in mine and her faith and trust in me.  But what if I sucked at it?  What if I didn’t bond with her?  What if I missed my former self so much that I resented her for it?  What if my career or my relationship with my husband suffered because there’s only so much Krista to go around?   

Reading the blog of BoredMommy about a reader who didn’t think that “mothers” should call themselves “mommys” makes me think about all the ways a woman should get more credit for  doing this thing called raising a child.  Only four months in, I’m not sure I’m ready to call myself a success.  But I have a happy, healthy and thriving baby girl who squeals with delight when I walk in the door.  For that I am proud. 

I am adjusting to the responsibilities of parenthood and learning to let the weight of the office go when I’m not at work.  My daughter gets my attention when I walk in the door and for that I am proud. 

I have a husband who loves me almost as much as he loves his baby girl.  I get to see him light up when she is in his arms and for that I am proud. 

She will make decisions I won’t agree with, push her boundaries and test the limits.  She will challenge my patience, test my character and maybe break my heart.  Yet I will still be proud. 

When the days come that she gets on the school bus, dances in her first recital, or walks across the stage at graduation or down the aisle at her wedding,  I will be proud. 

We judge each other so much.  We roll our eyes at the decisions other parents make about working vs. staying at home, bottle feeding vs. breastfeeding, crying it out vs. not.  There are enough opportunities for us all to screw it up.  Wouldn’t it be nice if we could at least leave the name that we’re called off the battle ground.  Regardless of whether this sweet girl calls me Mommy, Momma, Mother, or Hey you.  I will be proud of her and proud of the person she has turned me into.  The rest is semantics.


One Response

  1. Here’s a tutorial for adding GFC to WP:

    I don’t know if that will help…but thought I’d try! Thanks for participating in Connect MEme Monday! I am now following your recommendations!

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