Never in my lifetime did I ever think I would love being called a Mother. I adore my kids and the things they do. I sit at night and stare at them, in shock that these two amazing creatures came out of my body.
I knew I wanted to be a mother from a young age. Although a tom boy to the core, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be the best mother I could be, even better than anything else in my life.

When I had L, the opposite of what I thought would happen, happened, and I was miserable. I had a C Section that at the time, I thought was necessary. Things were ok for the first week as I had a lot of help. But when people stopped coming to see the new boy in the family and hubby and mom went back to work, it was just me and my clolicy, clingy and demanding baby. I was home all day with him, by myself. No adult company at all and still had a house to take care of. I was so frustrated that I just wanted to cry all day. When someone anyone came home I just dumped L into their arms so I could get some relief. It was very hard on me. Nothing I expected at all. I mean people don't tell you that you don't always get a happy and really content baby. Add colic to the mix, and you become a "runaway mom". Then again, I guess I should not have been surprised. I was a horribly colic baby and my mom did not sleep for up to 6 months. At one stage the doctor told my dad "If you don't step up and help, your wife will have a nervous breakdown". My mom cant stop reminding me about this and I think I should have paid more attention before surprisingly falling pregnant with L.
The funny thing about all this is that no matter how frustrated and angry I was at the way L was, the minute he was not well or hurt, it would kill me. I remember one morning, waking up to feed L and him throwing up all of his breakfast on me. I let it go, thinking it was a once off, but then all hell broke lose. He kept throwing up and was making runny poo's which made me have to change his clothes at least 5 times. He also had a low grade fever and I was just besides myself. My mom called and I cried and cried on the phone. This time not because I was overwhelmed from all that was happening, but because I though my baby was dying and did not know how to help him feel better, and man did I feel guilty for not knowing.
Now here is the catch, no matter how I just wanted to be away from this baby, I loved him. Him getting sick is what put things into perspective for me. Even as a naive 20 year old mother, I had the instinct, the one every mother is
So then I prepared for my next baby. Armed with information from Conception to childhood with little A and I knew it would be better this time because
But then that day comes, the one where she is not feeling very well and I don't know what is wrong because she has never been ill before. I am instantly taken back to that day L got sick, but this time its worse. This is a physical injury from her being so active, she had to jump off the bed twice in one morning, and I sit here at work in agony about my baby. I am in the same place again. Different baby same feeling of hopelessness. In my defence, I did not know she was not well until I called the nanny from work. But this does not make me feel less guilty. I am her mother and my 'sixth' sense should tell me that something is wrong, right?
Is this when I realise that I love A too. No, I knew I loved her before I knew her. So what is it?

So now I sit here, hoping and praying that time flies by so I can hold my baby and make all the 'einas' ( a - naa's ) go away. I just wish hubbies heart would feel like mine about this, maybe he will stop calling me about buying a new car...lol
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