The Makings of A Good Mom
Before becoming pregnant with a child of my own, I recognized the decision to become someone’s mom as one that was instinctively selfless.
“There’s no way to be a perfect mother, and a million ways to be a good one.”
It is to recognize the importance of putting another being before yourself. It is to understand that life will never be the same because there will always be someone to consider ahead of you. This is probably what made me most nervous about carrying the title of someone’s “mom.” I thought I had some more time to be selfish and to do things simply because I wanted to without absolutely having to take someone else into consideration.
The day that I was faced with the reality of taking my baby home from the hospital, mentally, I had already counted me out. I had already decided that there were plenty of other people on the planet who were better suited for the job than I was. There were the most magnificent nurses at the hospital who always seemed to know what to do. They knew just when the baby should be fed, when he should be changed, how much sleep was too much and the appropriate position for holding his fragile body. Why would they trust me to take him home?
Even once we arrived home, I knew that the more seasoned moms awaited us. The grandmothers were obviously more suited for the job than I, having had 30+ years of experience on myself. That instilled within me a sense of insecurity. I had already counted me out. I’d observe how my baby’s nana would swoop him from his bassinet when he stirred and effortlessly supply him with his two ounces of milk. She’d sprawl him across her lap and have him burped and back to sleep in no time. Meanwhile, there I was, trying to sling him across my shoulder to burp and still toggling with the best position to put him in.
Female friends would come to visit and seamlessly rock him to sleep. I had presumed that my mommy instinct would make me better than them. What I saw before me communicated something totally different, however. I wanted to be all. I wanted to do all. I wanted to adorn the first time supermom cape and have everyone applaud me for it. Anytime someone came around I felt the need to assert my position as mom.
Many months later, I have since graduated from that disposition and quite honestly, no one can tell me nothin’! While I chuckle to myself as I type that, I’ve really resolved within myself that I am currently and will always be the best mommy for my son. There is no one else more qualified for or capable of my specific role in his life. I can acknowledge that the mothers who have come before me obviously have way more experience on me. Their experience is laced with wisdom in which they can impart on me, however, I have the ability to take advice, observe, borrow mommy techniques and blaze my own mommy trails all at the same time.
Ultimately, when my baby wakes up in the morning he’s looking for “moyeee” (mommy) …or daddy depending on his mood. When he falls and scrapes his little elbow, he’s running to mommy for a kiss. At the end of the day, he stands in the doorway of his daycare cheering as I approach. Saturday morning sweet potato biscuits drizzled in honey are only as special to him because they were made with love from “moyeee.” I say this to say that no one else can fill the place of little Elliott’s mother. He will always acknowledge people for their position in his life but he will only ever acknowledge me as “moyeee.” I can and will continue to fill that role by doing what I do best: that is being instinctive; doing all of the things that my gut tells me are good for him; cultivating a respectful boy who is full of wonder, love and fun! There is not rule book and that is centering.
