My Heart

I placed her in her carrier car seat. For a nine and a half pound baby she looked incredibly tiny in that thing. Her little hat almost covered her eyes. Her arms and legs were still crunched up tight, her itty bitty hands shaped into fists. I just stood next to her dad and we stared at her. She wasn’t doing anything, just sleeping, but we were so enamored with her. Every miniscule thing she did fascinated us. She was beautiful and perfect. I placed my hand over my heart. The amount of love I felt for her in my heart physically hurt. But it was glorious. 

The nurse came in just then, pushing a wheelchair and told us we were good to go. 

Good to go? How could we be good to go? To take her home without the nurses? Without the people who knew if something could be wrong with her and what to do if it was? Home to a bed that didn’t lift me to the perfect nursing position with the push of a button? Home to our little house that could be full of so many dangerous things for her? What if she falls on the hardwood floors and hurts her head? What if she ends up running into a table edge or falls down the two steps off of the porch? What if the car seat isn't placed correctly in the car? Wait...her dad had a police officer check it for him. 

I suddenly felt his hand rubbing my back. He must have read my expressions because he gently said “We’re good to go.” with a sympathetic smile. I gave him a slightly nervous one back as he picked up my bag and the baby carrier. The nurse ushered me into the wheelchair and I sat the diaper bag on my lap. We were off.

Twenty minutes later we were pulling into our driveway. I smiled down at her and whispered, “Welcome home baby.” 

He set her carrier on the floor by the couch, our bags on the loveseat and went to get me some water. It was time for our little one to eat. As her daddy walked back in the room with the water, she began to cry out. She had the tiniest little cry and puckered her lips in the cutest way. That sent up a round of “Awwwwww” from us as our eyes teared up. How in the world could you love something as much as we loved her? I felt like I could physically die from the rush of emotions. He picked her up out of the carrier to hand her to me as I readied myself to feed her. As she latched on I felt so much relief and her wriggling, fighting little limbs stilled. She was at peace and so were we. 

That night as she lay in the bassinet next to our bed, we lay there, snuggled together, his head on mine as we watched her sleep. 

“She is so beautiful.” he whispered. I whispered back, “I know, perfect!” and I cried as he held me tight. There were so many reasons for those tears. Tears of joy at having a perfectly healthy baby, despite being born four weeks early. Tears of happiness that I was finally a mom. Tears of anxiety at what lay ahead. Was I up for the job? What if I screwed it up? What if I screwed her up? Tears of exhaustion. Tears of love. Tears of humbleness that God thought I was worthy to be a mom to something so precious and perfect.  

Somewhere in the midst of those tears I fell asleep. I awoke in the middle of the night to feed her again. She ate hungrily but kept dozing off herself. I had to rub her cheek to wake her enough to start drinking again. 

The next morning I awoke with a vengeance. I WAS going to be the perfect mom with the perfect schedule for her kid and the perfectly clean house. Well, we all know how that eventually goes, but for a while it was very true. She woke at 2 a.m. to eat and then again at 6 a.m. Lucky for me she liked to sleep so she napped for four hours in the middle of the day. Every. Day. (Swings are amazing by the way.) So that means I got to take a shower and shave my legs, finish up my school work, clean the house and eat my lunch while watching a tv show... uninterrupted...by the time she woke up. 

She got mornings with daddy while mommy cooked him breakfast and packed his lunch. When he came home from work he would shower and then hold her the whole time until her bedtime at eight. He played with her non stop and as she got bigger our golden retriever would join in on the fun. That dog was so gentle with her and loved her to pieces! 

My life truly felt complete. 

************************************************************

This beautiful, smiling child filled my days with laughter, love, and aww as I re-saw the world around me through her eyes. Her innocence and joy in the tiniest little things in life renewed my spirit. She became my side kick, my best friend going with me everywhere, including class! She was so laid back! I would put her in her push along car (similar to a stroller) with snacks and a sippy in the trunk, extra books for her in my bookbag and wheel her into class with me. My professors never minded. She sat quietly in her little car reading her books over and over again. If she needed something she would reach for my hand and I would open the trunk, pull out the snacks or sippy cup and she would quietly take which one she wanted and go back to her books. 

I have never once regretted being a mother. Don’t get me wrong, there have been terrifying days but not one ounce of regret. I was twenty six when I gave birth to her and I was just as scared as I would have been at twenty. But she brought so much into my life, taught me so much about myself and the world around me, and still does to this day. She is my heart.