I’ve held my breath, waiting for it, that moment that the transformation would begin, like the snow warmth moving from your toes after the cold.
I’ve shook my head in sorrow for the women who haven’t found it, willing themselves against it or blocked by the chemical trappings in their brain furrowing in the darkness.
And although I’ve seen it time and time again, in many different forms and in many different families, it never fails to leave me in awe and wonderment —
That moment I watched you become a mother.
It’s not always the stray Cheerio on your pant leg, the “just in case” diapers stashed in your purse, or the dark circles under your eyes you hope no one notices. But it’s always there, in your eyes, in your bones that have borne the weight of another, in your arms that know what it’s like to carry the world, you are transformed.
From the moment you became a mother…