The reality is that my son doesn't sleep well. Or maybe he sleeps "normal" but no one talks about it. I don't know, I'm new at this parenting thing. He never really recovered from his four month sleep regression and now we celebrate when we get two hours straight. He had been nursing to sleep but when I try to do that hourly, he just gets too full and it doesn't work. So we rock. And bounce. And shush. And pray. And cry together. And rock some more. And walk in circles around the living room. And then he puts up one final fight, and then he is O.U.T.
But that's not the point of this post. Because everyone has hard moments. If it's not sleeping, it's weight gain. Or breastfeeding. Or getting sick. Or finding a daycare. Or starting solid food. Or bullies. Or potty training. Or having to buy the jeans with the "slimming panel and comfort waistband". Or not having enough money for a vacation to Mexico. Or not spending enough time with kiddo.
The point is that it's rough, but I am a mom and I signed up for this. I prayed for it for a long long time, actually. And millions of women around the world pray for it every day, too.
I used to work with adults with developmental disabilities. And one thing that always struck me, even then, is that I knew adults whose only word their whole life was "mama". Or the only person they recognized ever was their mom. And I get to be that for someone.
The first person to call when you are excited about something is (well probably your spouse but second is) your mom. If something terrible would happen, the person you call is your mom because moms make everything better.
It's quite the honor. And I try and remember that when I'm rocking and shushing and crying and praying and breastfeeding him again and getting smacked in the face. It's more than having a baby. It's getting to be someone's Mom.