it’s hard to describe what one feels as a mother. what one thinks and prepares for and prays never happens.

it’s also hard for someone who isn’t a mother to understand such previously stated feelings.

it was difficult for me, even, to understand such things before I had my own daughter. There really are no words for a mother’s love. Or a mother’s wrath. Or the latent potential for both.

This seems rather morbid, but it is the daily thought process of this mother…I constantly run through the worst case scenarios. I constantly look over our shoulders. I constantly look strangers in the face as we walk by. And I rarely let loose of her physically, and certainly not emotionally.

Everything I do is with her safety and future in mind. She is my world. And I am hers. It’s difficult to explain or even understand the relationship we share, as I’ve never understood it prior to now.

On being a mother…it’s a choice, a profession, an obsession. It is all-consuming and wholly welcomed. It is amazing, but it isn’t for everyone. I know this, and for other’s sakes, I don’t push it.

Yet I will say this…regardless of my limited readership…I know how hard it is. I know how it may affect families. But I am here, for you who needs the support. I will help and I will help you care for your precious children.

I have considered having more; I always say it’s hard to improve upon perfection. Yet the real reason, way back in my head, is that I’m holding out. I’m waiting for that one moment or event or time when I’m most needed and can help the ‘weakest of these’ in their moment of crisis. And I want to be ready and I want to have the room and resources. I want the ability to say yes, to mean it, and to follow through.

I haven’t always been this way, or felt such things so strongly. But just as childhood is a growing process, so is motherhood and adulthood. It is all about growth, and I feel that perhaps, I have finally achieved it.