It’s been just over five years since I became a mother. And I discovered that being a mom was hard.
I knew, intellectually, that being a mother was a lot of work. But I had no idea how emotionally difficult a newborn could be. I felt like I had to have every priority and desire wrested and wrenched from me. (And, frankly, sometimes it does still feel that way.)
I was understimulated and overwhelmed, always tired, and never able to get the real rest that I needed.
And now? I have two other kids in addition to my baby. I almost feel as though I’ve been through the wringer and come out the other side—because, I finally realize, I do enjoy being a mother.
For the last five years, whenever a mother concludes the usual list of complaints with “but it’s worth it,” I mentally raised an eyebrow. And yeah, I still do that most of the time. There are still times—lots of them—where I am completely fed up and ready to quit. But slowly I’m finding myself remembering more of those moments where I do feel it’s worth it.
When Hayden was born, just being a mother was so hard for me, I wasn’t sure I could have another (and the epidural complications didn’t help). After Rebecca’s birth, I thought I could have another in due time. But before that “due time” was up, I had Rachel—and with her, every little moment I think, 
“This can’t be the last time I have a baby to snuggle or see these milestones or love a child of my own.”
A lot of the bitterness of the experience of becoming a mother has faded, and looking back, I know how easy I had it. I realized at the time that Hayden wasn’t a very difficult baby, and my struggles were mostly my own, and of course, I did love him very much. On the other hand, Rachel was my most difficult baby early on (she’s a perfectly happy child now)—and maybe that’s why I appreciate this phase more now.
Maybe it’s just that the older your kids get, the more you appreciate the little moments—and the moments they’re little. Almost every day, one of the kids does something remarkable, adorable, amazing, intelligent and/or kind. The milestones come faster and faster—and then I carry Rachel to her room for a nap, and I’m alternately amazed at how huge she’s getting and how tiny she still is.
I don’t know if I’ve done the feeling justice, but I feel like I appreciate and enjoy being a mother more now than I ever have. So this Valentine’s Day, I’m celebrating a mother’s love by loving motherhood.
How would you write a tribute to mother’s love for Valentine’s Day?
