I didn't always want to be a mother. I mean, I didn't ever want to not be a mother, but being a mother wasn't ever something that I obsessed over. I just assumed that one day when I was really old, I would meet a nice boy, get married and have some babies.
Which, I guess when I think about it, is pretty much exactly what happened. Minus the really old part.
In order to spend 31 days writing about motherhood, I thought maybe I would start at the beginning. How I arrived here to this point. To this day. To being a mother of two off-the-charts ridiculously adorable boys.
I met Michael during my sophomore year of college. We were at a fraternity party together, he, a brother in the fraternity and I, just a girl hoping to dance on a few tables, drink a little Skippy and make some questionable decisions. Never in a million years did I think I would be playing beer pong with my future husband, let alone the father of my future babies.
But there we were, standing together in a dump of a fraternity house floors sticky with cheap beer and god only knows what else. I can't say that I fell in love with him immediately but over the course of the next few years that we dated it was evident that I would be spending the rest of my life with this guy. Happily, I should add.
Michael and I will celebrate five years of marriage later this month and come January, we will have been together for ten years. A whole entire decade.
OK. Maybe I do feel really old.
I married Michael at 24. After experiencing an unexpected pregnancy that ended in a miscarriage at 14 weeks gestation at 25, I became pregnant with Carter at 26 and became a first-time mom two months shy of my 27th birthday.
I may not remember many things in my life as clearly as I remember the first time I laid eyes on Carter. The surgeon had just lifted him high enough above the curtain that separated me from my, well, insides and I remember thinking "Holy crap. We have a baby. And he's perfect."
And just like that my entire life changed in an instant.
Priorities shifted and relationships changed. I became responsible for someone other than myself. The needs of someone else ultimately would forever come before my own from that day forward. Talk about pressure.
As the first of our friends to have a baby, most of them understood our new dynamic- why we couldn't meet at Happy Hour with a two week old, why we couldn't travel here or there for an event. Why our focus suddenly shifted from them and ourselves to our baby.
And truth be told? Some of them didn't. And they still may not understand it completely but my hope for them is that one day they will be blessed with babies and it will all suddenly make sense.
So there we were with this new baby. Although I'm not sure if "baby" is a fitting name those first few weeks. Our days and nights resembled something more akin to caring for a tiny little monster. One that constantly ate but didn't really eat. Slept but didn't really sleep.
And after each of us gained our New Parent sea legs? We were off and running.
As my firstborn, Carter will always hold an extra special chunk of my heart for being the first to make me a mother. I guess you could say he broke me in. He initiated me into The Mom Club and I will be forever grateful to him.
Prior to becoming a mom, I worked as a Bone Marrow Transplant nurse at one of the top ten hospitals in the nation. I can say without a doubt that I loved my job there. To wake up every morning and love what you do is an absolute gift.
But I can say with absolute certainty that my greatest accomplishment, my greatest achievement in my life to date, is being called Mom to not one but two sweet and beautiful little boys.
From a rocky beginning to a fun, laughter and love-filled middle and most recently the addition of our second little boy just a mere three and a half months ago, Motherhood, you sure are one wild ride.