Dear Mom, I'll Always Be Your Baby...Even When I Have My Own
Dear Mom,
Today I came home from the hospital with my brand-new baby boy. As my weak postpartum body hobbled in the front door, there you were, waiting anxiously with my 4-year-old, grinning from ear to ear. Oh, how you had probably dreamed of that moment just as long as I had.
I smiled back at you, trying my hardest to soak in every detail and store it away as a memory to last a lifetime. But everything wasn’t as perfect as I’d hoped it would be.
I can chalk it up to being a little older than the last time I did this. Or perhaps it was having an insanely fast delivery. But recovering from this baby has been rough.
I hurt, Mom. Everywhere.
But you saw that, didn’t you? You saw past my semi-forced smile and blasé attitude revealing something was a little less than perfect in the midst of a perfect moment.
Your baby was hurting. You could have swooped in, grabbed my newborn, and taken him away for those blessed grandma snuggles, forgetting all about me. But you didn’t. Instea…
Today I came home from the hospital with my brand-new baby boy. As my weak postpartum body hobbled in the front door, there you were, waiting anxiously with my 4-year-old, grinning from ear to ear. Oh, how you had probably dreamed of that moment just as long as I had.
I smiled back at you, trying my hardest to soak in every detail and store it away as a memory to last a lifetime. But everything wasn’t as perfect as I’d hoped it would be.
I can chalk it up to being a little older than the last time I did this. Or perhaps it was having an insanely fast delivery. But recovering from this baby has been rough.
I hurt, Mom. Everywhere.
But you saw that, didn’t you? You saw past my semi-forced smile and blasé attitude revealing something was a little less than perfect in the midst of a perfect moment.
Your baby was hurting. You could have swooped in, grabbed my newborn, and taken him away for those blessed grandma snuggles, forgetting all about me. But you didn’t. Instea…
