pain

I can remember the exact moment the pain began. July 21, 2008 only a few hours after giving birth to Lauren it started. I had finally made it to a room upstairs. It was dark, Shawn was trying to rest on the extra bed and Lauren had been taken to the nursery for the regular tests. I was trying to sleep but my mind was reeling. Giving birth had been quite the experience. My new body felt foreign, squishy, and alone. As I lay there it hit me that my life would never be the same. Oh I had heard people say it but there in that dark, sterile hospital room I knew. The pain started in my chest. It had fiery fingers that weaved and wrapped themselves around every part of me until I felt I couldn't breathe. My throat started to burn and for a moment I thought I was suffocating. I knew what it was - it was her. It was my overwhelming attachment, love, and need to protect this new little life that had me tied up in knots. As soon as she returned to the room I felt better. The pain was still there but it dulled to a slight ache. Was this the kind of feeling I'd heard so many people talk about? The kind of love that only a mother can experience for her child?

The pain hasn't gone away entirely over the course of the past year. It is still there when I watch her play pretend. It is there when she gives me a kiss or wants to cuddle. It is there when I sneek in her room to see her curled up so peacefully. It is there when I drop her off in the nursery at Church. It is there when I watch her walk and know that our moments together will too soon pass. It is there when I imagine the future and pray that we make it.

I have no hope that this pain will ever go away and even though it hurts I don't think I want it to. It is the kind of pain that keeps me real and challenges me to savor every moment of this life as her mommy.