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Musings of a Seven-Year Old Mom
Seven years ago, I woke up in the middle of the night in labor. The big moment had finally arrived. In what I could only hope would be a few short, painless hours later, I would be a mom.
While I couldn’t wait to meet my little girl (no, we didn’t find out the sex, I just had a feeling), I was surprised to feel sad. As we drove to the hospital, I cried. I told my husband this was the last time it would just be the two of us. We were about to become a threesome — for good.
Well, a few short (but very painful) hours later, our first son was born. And my world was forever changed.
I quickly learned that I could love two boys madly and deeply. That all the stuff I read in books would only get me so far, the rest was up to me. That I really, really like sleep and showers, but not nearly as much as starring at itty bitty fingers and toes. That being a mom is exactly who I was supposed to be.
Yes, over the past seven years, I’ve learned so very much about the depth of a mother’s love. And I can’t wait to learn even more with my sweet baby boy by my side in the years to come.