Last year at this time I was miserably swollen and uncomfortable, and pretty bitter. I was scheduled for a c-section on May 19th and no one (except for my dearest friend) would celebrate Mother's Day for me. Pity party, reservation for one, please. No one had a clue baby chickypoo would be making her appearance just a short two days later.
Fast forward to this year, and I have beautiful, fun, smart little girl who is the absolute light of my life. I honestly can't remember my life before her, and I think that's the way it's supposed to be. I struggle with the working mommy guilt, and often feel as though I miss out on important things by working. I look forward to the day, hopefully soon, that I can solely work out of the home and be present for her.
So on my first Mother's Day this year, we went to brunch with some family and had a low key day. Mr. Chickypoo ran into town, and in that 15 minutes he was gone, my sweet little chickypoo gave me my Mother's Day gift. She decided to take her first, stumbling, unassisted steps just for me. Its bittersweet, as this means she's a big girl now and not my helpless little baby, but it was my moment. I finally got my moment.
To my little one,
Thank you for letting me be your mommy. You are my sun, my moon, and my stars, all wrapped into one. I cherish every day with you and will never, ever tire of hearing "mamamama".
I love you so much, thank you for giving me the greatest, hardest, and most fullfilling job ever: Mommy.
