Before I became a mother myself, I had a romanticized view of motherhood. I read about how it's the most beautiful thing on earth, and then imagined it as rainbows and butterflies. I knew of course there would be difficult sleepless nights, but I believed they'd be nothing against the beauty of it all. The beauty I read about in magazines and the captions underneath photographs of mothers staring at their babies' eyes intently with a smile.
And then motherhood happened. And the realization that impromptu late night dates with my husband for some ice-cream down the street weren't that possible anymore. That a visit to the grocery store would be filled with anxiety and rushed moments before an infant cries or your boobs swell up. And the sleepless nights. And a colicky baby. Yes, a colicky baby. And then I felt as if the whole world had been lying to me all those while about how beautiful motherhood was. Motherhood wasn't rainbows and butterflies, I thought.
And it still isn't. But it's beautiful. I now understand a different meaning of beautiful. Motherhood, in its every sense, is still the hardest thing on earth. And that's the beauty of it. It makes you realize of what you're capable of. It makes you realize of what you aren't and how you'd try. It makes you realize of the lengths you'd go to. It makes you realize of your ability to put someone else before you. It makes you realize of the extra room in your heart you never knew you had. And it reminds you of your mother. Of the difficulty she endured. Of the many times you disappoint her after that and the way she still puts you first. Motherhood is many things. It's crazy.
And it's beautiful.
Happy Mother's Day.