This woman's work...

Tomorrow is my first real Mother's Day.
While most mothers will spend their days celebrated by their families - going to brunch, wearing handmade macaroni necklaces, proudly carrying the carnations handed to them at local businesses - I won't be joining them.

I'll be at work.

Since I work in a hospital setting, weekend coverage is a necessary evil. Our rotation is completely arbitrary, and so it is simply dumb luck that I should end up working on this, my first celebration of a holiday that was likely created by a greeting card company.

I'm not trying to be cynical.  It's just kind of fitting that I would be working tomorrow.

You see, we're allowed to take these weekend shifts off if we want.  We just have to use our vacation time.  We even get the following Friday off as if we actually worked it.  Unfortunately, the amount of paid time I have saved since maternity leave is meager at best.  And that dwindling supply is being eaten up by our vacation to the land of the tankini and The Incredible Hulk's upcoming surgery.  To use 8 of those precious saved hours just so I can stand in line at a crowded brunch buffet erected in my honor would be irresponsible at best.

So, it's off to work I go to do the thing I have grown accustomed to in the short while I've been a mother - sacrifice.


I am guilty of being selfish at times in my life, of that I am sure, but I really like to think that I am never that way when it comes to him.  In fact, I don't think I even question the things I have to do to make sure his needs are met before my own (and often instead of my own.)

To say motherhood has changed me would be the understatement of the century.
Despite months of reading and preparation, doctor's appointments and fulfilling nesting urges - I still walked out of the hospital with the baby and had not a clue about how to take care of him.  But somehow, we all survived it.

It's a strange thing, motherhood.  It's all about "coming from a place of yes," knowing and practicing "radical acceptance," not sweating the small stuff, and above all else - allowing yourself to enjoy each and every moment.  (That includes the ones at 3:30 am.  Yes.  Really.)

As I rocked TIH to sleep tonight, I looked down at him and just couldn't believe how different my life is today than it was a year ago.  How different I am.  I thought of how much I feared this change in my life and in myself.  How much I questioned if I was really ready.  But, looking down at that face, it just all went away.  I am so glad I am a mother.  I am so proud to be a part of these generations and generations of women before me who have lucky enough to be part of this unique club - motherhood.

We can't help but rise to each occasion our children call us to.
We hug, we sweep away tears, we wipe noses, and kiss foreheads to feel for fevers.
Our backs ache, our minds race, our hearts skip beats both out of fear and out of joy.  We laugh so hard we're crying and we cry so hard we're laughing.

And, it's the best.

It's true, I wasn't really "prepared" to become a mother when I became one (no one EVER is), but I rose to the occasion.  I made the sacrifices.  And I will continue to do so for the rest of my time on this earth.

So, I'm going to work tomorrow.  It's exactly what I want to be doing: providing a good life for my son.
But, when I get home - I'm totally making him snuggle with me for bit.

Happy Mother's Day to all of you out there.
Hope you get to spend your day doing exactly what you want to be doing.

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