Every Holiday Season, I Reflect on How You Made Me a Mother

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The moment I hear holiday music, I can’t help but reminisce about that Christmas nine years ago when I was heavily pregnant, my belly resembling a snow globe ready to burst. Sleeping was a challenge; the pregnancy migraines were relentless, and the twinkling lights outside our window felt like daggers to my weary eyes. I was exhausted, sensitive, and overwhelmingly pregnant.

But beneath all that was an undercurrent of fear. While others gathered joyfully around their Christmas trees, I felt as if I were unraveling. I lay in bed, consumed by thoughts of, What have I done?

Then, a few days after New Year’s and under a luminous full moon, you arrived. Just like that, I transitioned into motherhood without any preparation. When the midwives placed you in my arms, you were wailing. At that moment, you felt like a tiny stranger to me, and your cries resonated against my chest like a distant echo of a star.

Learning to love you was a journey. Initially, you wouldn’t nurse, and sleep was elusive. Your piercing blue eyes seemed to see deep into my soul during those 3 a.m. moments when I thought, I can’t handle this. Yet, when you finally drifted off to sleep on my chest, my heart filled with a love unlike any I had ever experienced, a love that radiated through every part of me.

You taught me that it was permissible to love with such intensity, to be overwhelmed by that love, and even to resent the challenges of motherhood. It was okay to wish for a break while simultaneously cherishing the moments we shared.

Now, dear son, I see you nestled in your top bunk, engrossed in a game on your iPad. Your younger brother sleeps soundly, and it’s just the two of us, reminiscent of those early days when I rocked you endlessly to coax you to sleep. For years, I cradled you close, never wanting to let go.

I can hardly believe how quickly time has flown; soon, you’ll be turning nine. How many more Christmases will we share before you venture out on your own? How long until we go days without speaking?

I know these changes will come gradually, yet all too swiftly—like a blink of an eye, as they say. I will always be your mother, loving you fiercely and always amazed by the depth of that love.

Every holiday season, I will remember the anticipation I felt awaiting your arrival, the moment you made me a mother. For that, you will always be my baby.

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In summary, the holiday season serves as a poignant reminder of the transformative journey of motherhood. The love and challenges encountered along the way shape our experiences, making each moment treasured.

Keyphrase: holiday motherhood reflections
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