Monday, 13 May 2013
That's me. 39 weeks and 5 days pregnant, cleaning out my wardrobe.
Even while pregnant I never gave much thought to Mother's Day. I always sent a card and a small gift to my mum because she's the sort of person who really values that. But me, I never gave a hoot about valentines day or birthday gifts. I hated making anything about me.
Usually after the early morning feed, I cuddle with Ari in bed and have another quick sleep until about 8. On Sunday I woke up to her really close to me, breathing gently on my neck. It was magical. A quick scroll through social media made me all foggy, reading everyone's love towards their mother and the hurt and pain of those whose mothers are no longer around. It really hit me that I was somebody's mother, too.
I cried multiple times that day. I hugged my little girl tight (too tight at one point that she cried... Oops). It made me miss my mum and appreciate the sometimes suffocating love that she has for me. I totally get it, even though it drives me mad at times.
In the short 7 weeks that I've been lucky to be her mum, Ari has bought me so much joy. Every day is different and unpredictable. Her innocent smile heals all the physical pain and cures all of my insecurities. She gives me strength and makes me excited for the future that I will hopefully share with her. She makes me want to work harder than ever. She's turned me into an organised morning person.
No gift is greater than my Ari. But the chocolates and the framed picture of the first moment I hugged my girl and looked at her are pretty close. Topped off with a beautifully written card that caused a flood of tears.
And half a glass of champagne.
Happy Mother's Day.