Motherhood is the gift I always hoped for, and the the one that most caught me by surprise. I birthed my son on a sunny April morning, with groans and tears and a fierce fighting that came from somewhere deep within me. As he took his first breaths, I too took my firsts breaths – my first breaths as a mother.
My motherhood was born that day. A new role in life. That role was both familiar and foreign. Familiar because I’d watched my own mama, and many mamas, throughout my life. I knew what to expect. But also foreign, because I’d never had to own the weighty responsibility of motherhood until Ezra came into our lives.
Becoming a mother is a process. I’ve discovered that motherhood mirrors the new fragile but surprisingly resilient life of the child. Those first few weeks I was a newborn too. I wasn’t as helpless as my tiny redemption baby, but my motherhood was still in its infancy, in need of lots of care and nurturing. I was learning and growing at a staggering rate, right alongside my precious baby. And I still am. That’s the beauty of motherhood: every day is an opportunity to become the mother I hope to be.
Here at A Royal Daughter I write about real motherhood. I promise not to curate a life I don’t really live. Oh yes, there are glorious moments where my heart is filled with a brilliant light of love and wonderment at this gift I’ve been given. But there are growth spurts, dirty dishes, late nights, days I don’t get dressed, and completely forgettable moments that I really don’t want to forget. And I write about those too.