Hey, little girl.
Soak it up.
All that love shining right towards you because
It’s real.
I’m your momma and I love you through and through.
There may be other babies but to me,
You are you.
And I love you just the way you are.
I’m your momma.
And I’ll never stop loving you.
I felt the familiar pull. The downward spiral. The fall. The loss of control. The pieces of my life that remained in the wake of my breakdown.
Too much, too soon.
I wanted it all and I was tired of waiting so I forged ahead at a breakneck pace, shattering ceilings along the way.
I gave up my career as a teacher to stay home with our first daughter but picked up a part-time sales consulting job when she was just 6 months. I was successful and I felt driven, until it was more than our family could handle. I gave it up when my third daughter was 6 months.
Three years passed and I felt restless, eager to grab an opportunity to work as a consultant for a publisher of children’s books that I adored. I reassured myself and my husband that I could manage it all, but I failed to consider my innate drive to share my passion, gaining business and momentum along the way until it became more than we could manage.
That’s when I plummeted.
Feeling trapped. Unable to explore my professional potential. And guilty for feeling that my children were getting in the way.
Until I remembered that moment in our kitchen when we chose to try for our fourth baby.
I realized that in that choice, I was choosing her. I was choosing my family. That I’ve had control all along.
I just needed to see the big picture.
These days feel long but the years are short.
I didn’t give up my profession. I chose one: Mothering.
And how lucky I am to be able to make that choice.
Big Picture.
Alternatively:
Pick your poison!
The dishes are still on the table, the laundry is folded but still on the couch. I’ve had dry cereal in my bowl for 1 hour, anxiously awaiting its milk but I choose you, Emma Jane. You are already 11 weeks and amidst the chaos that is our daily life, I still want time to slow down. You cry, I pick you up and rest my cheek upon yours. You settle, and I absorb the warmth between us. An osmosis of love. An exchange of energy and understanding.
You are our third and, likely, our last child so I cherish these teeny, tiny moments between us. My lips upon your forehead as I inhale your sweet newborn scent. I feel as if I am floating, this simply is too good to be true.
In ten years, the dishes will still be on the table, the laundry on the couch, and the cereal still awaiting its milk in the bowl. But you will be too big to fit inside the cradle of my arm. So I hold on a little longer than necessary, long after you have fallen asleep. I close my eyes and take quiet, deep breaths and in that moment, all time stand still. It is just you and me, Emma Jane, and that is all we need.
Photos by Danielle Ice Photography and Camille Vaughan Photography
