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Dear Me,
It’s Friday, October 1st. I am 10 weeks pregnant. I am scared and excited. This letter will be a rambling one.
A frequent theme in conversation with friends and in my own thoughts this week was how hard motherhood can be. That irony of wanting days to fly by and slow down at the same time. Wanting a break from being a Mom and wanting to spend every minute with my kids. Breathing them in, touching their soft baby skin, hearing their little voices calling, “Mama!” a 100 times a day.
I know when I read this letter in the future, I will probably cry. Luke will be a toddler and Rose will no longer be a toddler. I will god-willing be enjoying my last baby, future Sullivan child #3. It is going by so fast. Rose is in preschool, experimenting with the word ‘stupid’ 😒 and started gymnastics. Luke’s vocabulary is growing by the day and so is he. I know there will be days in the future that I will mourn the passing of these days. And I mean mourn.
Older parents on the street mention all the time, “Soak up every moment” “It goes by so fast”. One older mom looked at Rose when she was little and said, “I miss my babies,” with a sad look on her face. I felt that one in my gut. When Rose was a baby I had a breakdown one night at the thought that I wouldn’t be with her forever. I sobbed holding her. Poor baby girl was probably so confused.
I have never been so consumed with the love of another in my life until I had my kids. It was a love so strong, it terrified me. I didn’t want to lose it or waste it. But lately, I’ve been feeling like I want to spend more time with myself. The me before my children. To have some time away. I’ve also been first trimester cranky with them and have felt ashamed of that. I have been short with Rose so many times. She always forgives me. And I always forgive her sassy self.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this. Every day is a seesaw between to two sides. All I know, is when they’re in bed at night, I wish I could be holding them. I look at pictures and videos of them and look forward to seeing their faces in the morning.
The experience of motherhood is one filled with growing pains, sometimes shame, guilt and so much worry. But it is also So. Much. Love. Which I am convinced is the meaning of our lives, to love and be loved. I am blessed beyond words. I pray for the safety, health and happiness of my children and for myself so I can continue to care for and enjoy them.
Thank you, thank you God for my babies. Thank you for making me a better and stronger person through them. Help me to pause in the tough moments and notice their cheeks, their voices, all the fleeting things that I will miss. Help me to know it’s ok not to be perfect. Help me to be the best mom for them that I can. Help me to use my love for them in productive and useful ways. In your name.
By the way,
You’re doing great.
Xoxo
Kara
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