So today is April 27. A date I will always remember. A date that will always be special to me.
Because one year ago today was the last day of my life that I wasn't a mom.
Oh, I suppose you could point out that I was pregnant and therefore already a mom in that regard. But I didn't say it was the last day I wasn't a MOTHER. It was the last day I wasn't a MOM. And there's a difference.
The excitement and anxiousness I have over Veronica's birthday party tomorrow evening is nothing compared to how I felt a year ago at this time. Did I sleep? Not really, and it wasn't just because I was so huge and uncomfortable. I was only allowed to eat until midnight, but I only snacked all evening, too nervous to really think about eating. I drank some water just before midnight. I do remember that.
Tomorrow morning I will go to work, and remember that a year ago I was stopping by a gas station to buy a stack of newspapers, all bearing what would be Veronica's birthdate. As I log onto my computer at the office, I can remember that last year I was hooked up to IV's, getting interrogated by nurses and having lord knows what humiliating thing done to my body. (Which you really don't notice, btw, when you're there. Everything else - pride, shame, embarrassment - all take a backseat. Hell, they're not even in the backseat. They're not even in the car.) And I just hope that, at 9:16 tomorrow morning, I'm not so busy in the middle of some phone call or a conference with an attorney to look at the clock and remember the most wonderful moment of my life.
And today, I looked at my beautiful little girl, laughing and scooting across the floor, playing with toys, eating food, grabbing at the cat, and remembered my squishy little baby. The one who slept so much, who couldn't hold up her head or roll over. My tiny little girl in the hospital (who was still so much bigger than the other babies there!) And I miss my little baby. I know this time has passed, and yet I wonder when, exactly, did she leave? Was it the moment I got that first smile? The moment she first held up her head or rolled over? That first time she saw a toy and batted at it, hoping to connect with it somehow?
I don't know what I have a harder time believing: That Veronica has been here for a year, or that I've been a mom for this long. Or that it's been a year since I stopped just being a woman and a wife, a year since I became something much more than I had been before - and that it's only the first year of many more to come.
Because one year ago today was the last day of my life that I wasn't a mom.
Oh, I suppose you could point out that I was pregnant and therefore already a mom in that regard. But I didn't say it was the last day I wasn't a MOTHER. It was the last day I wasn't a MOM. And there's a difference.
The excitement and anxiousness I have over Veronica's birthday party tomorrow evening is nothing compared to how I felt a year ago at this time. Did I sleep? Not really, and it wasn't just because I was so huge and uncomfortable. I was only allowed to eat until midnight, but I only snacked all evening, too nervous to really think about eating. I drank some water just before midnight. I do remember that.
Tomorrow morning I will go to work, and remember that a year ago I was stopping by a gas station to buy a stack of newspapers, all bearing what would be Veronica's birthdate. As I log onto my computer at the office, I can remember that last year I was hooked up to IV's, getting interrogated by nurses and having lord knows what humiliating thing done to my body. (Which you really don't notice, btw, when you're there. Everything else - pride, shame, embarrassment - all take a backseat. Hell, they're not even in the backseat. They're not even in the car.) And I just hope that, at 9:16 tomorrow morning, I'm not so busy in the middle of some phone call or a conference with an attorney to look at the clock and remember the most wonderful moment of my life.
And today, I looked at my beautiful little girl, laughing and scooting across the floor, playing with toys, eating food, grabbing at the cat, and remembered my squishy little baby. The one who slept so much, who couldn't hold up her head or roll over. My tiny little girl in the hospital (who was still so much bigger than the other babies there!) And I miss my little baby. I know this time has passed, and yet I wonder when, exactly, did she leave? Was it the moment I got that first smile? The moment she first held up her head or rolled over? That first time she saw a toy and batted at it, hoping to connect with it somehow?
I don't know what I have a harder time believing: That Veronica has been here for a year, or that I've been a mom for this long. Or that it's been a year since I stopped just being a woman and a wife, a year since I became something much more than I had been before - and that it's only the first year of many more to come.
posted by Maranie @ 10:39 PM
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