I Cherish Being Your Mom, Even When Days are Tough

home insemination Kit

I can still vividly recall the day you came into this world—it feels like it happened just yesterday. But let’s be real; it was actually two years ago.

I’ll never forget our second night at the hospital. Your dad had gone home to tuck in your big brother. He stayed as long as he could before heading back to the chaos of our house. My mom came to keep me company, crashing on the stiff, faux-leather couch in our room. She was out like a light, but I was wide awake. You were a newborn after all—who could expect you to sleep?

As I lay there in that awkwardly positioned bed, I found myself spiraling into a whirlwind of doubt. Could I really handle years of sleepless nights? Could I manage two little ones all by myself when your dad returned to work? Was I capable of being the mom you needed? The answer to all those questions felt like a resounding “no.”

The truth is, it was going to be tough. I called your dad at work in tears more times than I can count. The harsh reality is that I’m far from perfect, as a person and as a mom.

But you know what? I didn’t make a mistake.

Now that you’re two, I finally get why people say, “This won’t last forever,” or “Don’t be the first to pull away when your child hugs you.” I realize, too, that while I’m not the ideal mom, I’m the one you’ve got.

I don’t marvel at you as often as I should. I’m not always thrilled to just sit together and flip through picture books. Sometimes, I’d rather scroll through my phone. And yes, sometimes I do.

Yet, even our toughest days are, without a doubt, my best days.

But here’s the kicker: as bedtime approaches each night, I’m flooded with memories of moments when I could have been more present. I think about times I should’ve reacted differently and how I really needed to clear my mind and fully engage with you. It stings. It stings because I’m not sorry.

I’m not sorry for wishing bedtime would arrive sooner. I’m not sorry for craving a few moments of solitude on the couch. But what truly hurts is knowing that these fleeting moments accumulate. I see your little face evolving into that of a more independent girl, leaving toddlerhood behind.

What stings is recognizing how each day you rely on me a little less, and I have to let go bit by bit. It’s heartbreaking to realize these moments when you cling to me and need me for everything are dwindling. One day, you’ll decide how much time you want to spend with me.

What pains me most is wondering if you’ll ever truly grasp how deeply I love you, despite my many flaws.

I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. But in reality, it was two years ago. Before I know it, two decades will have flown by. I won’t remember the details as clearly, and I’ll be that older, wiser mom who annoys new parents with tales of how fast it all goes. Before I know it, I’ll be holding on to these memories of your infancy rather than your tiny hand.

Being your mom is the most challenging yet rewarding thing I’ve ever done. It’s the hardest, best job I’ll ever have.

As I lay there in that uncomfortable bed, I questioned whether I’d made a mistake. But every day, you remind me that I didn’t. Every time your sparkling blue eyes meet mine in a giggle or when you scowl at me in frustration, I see the incredible person you are becoming, and despite the countless mistakes I’ve made and will continue to make, you will always be my best correction.

For more insights on motherhood and home insemination, check out this blog post about the topic. And if you’re looking for guidance on artificial insemination, visit Make a Mom for expert advice on the best home insemination kit available. Also, Science Daily offers excellent resources for pregnancy and fertility, which may be beneficial.

In summary, being a mother is a journey filled with challenges and joys, where every moment—hard or easy—becomes a cherished memory that shapes our bond.