I can easily divide my life into two eras: before motherhood, and after motherhood.
The transition can be perfectly illustrated by my birthday three years ago.
When I was nearing my 28th birthday, I was heavily pregnant with Boo-Boo. (He was due Nov. 12.) My birthday that year happened to fall on election day, and Dear Husband was hoping to attend an election night party at a friend's house and celebrate my birthday the following weekend. Truth be told, I threw a fit. I wanted my birthday to be celebrated on my day, in the way I wanted it celebrated. Harumph!
God has a sense of humor, though. I went into a crazy, fast labor two weeks before my due date and Boo-Boo propelled himself into the world. So, for my birthday, instead of the magical evening I had imagined, I was stuck at home, healing from labor, with a tiny, snorty, high-maintenance newborn. So much for what I wanted!
When I turned 29, Dear Husband and I escaped for a dinner out, but DH had an unprecedented allergic reaction to the food and we ended up in the emergency room for a few hours. When I turned 30, I was taking care of a newborn again.
As I've grown as a person and matured in motherhood, I've come to realize and accept that life is not about me anymore -- and that's OK. I had almost 28 years of what I wanted. My life is for my husband, and my two early birthday presents. And that's what matters most to me now.
2 comments:
Is it your birthday? HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I am so sorry that I didn't know!
You kill me. I suck.
+ luci
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