I got (read: picked out for myself) the best book for my berfday last night. It's by Mary Beth Chapman! And it's called Choosing to See. The lady at the bookstore told me to be ready to cry, and that she and her 18-year-old daughter couldn't finish it. I was already tearing up just looking at the pictures! I was ready for sleep when we got home, but ended up reading over half the book before I couldn't force my eyes to stay open any longer.
It hit me like when my nephews and cousins tackle me and I'm not expecting it...
MBC was writing about the moments before Shaohannah was brought to their room, about how she (MBC) was still nervous, scared, and unsure... But when that door opened, she ran... RAN and grabbed her little baby Shaohannah and hugged her up and was immediately, undoubtedly, forever Shaohannah's Mommy.
That's when it hit me... I. Will. Be. Mommy. Not Aunt "N," as I am to more children than just my "real" nieces and nephews. Not just n##e""s**s//a to the adults who feel silly calling me "aunt." Not "just" the aunt, or the babysitter, or the ss teacher, or the friend. Mama. Mommy. Forever. My child. I don't have to send him back home the morning after spending the night. She will run to ME with her skinned knees and broken heart.
Warning: this will sound selfish and childish and you very well may think I should just grow up, already... But I have waited a long time for this, and seen it happen for so many others, so many times. I've wanted so badly to be Mommy. Yes, I'm reaching that (self-proclaimed) status I said I'd never reach - the Baby-Starved Wingnut. And I don't even care. Here's that selfish/childish/grow-up-already part: s/he is MINE, and I DON'T hafta share!!! Mine to hold, and feed, and change, and give baths, and rock, and only share when I darn well feel like it! Oh, I hope to not hurt feelings, and I'm so afraid I will. I fear that I won't be willing to let anyone else hold my baby; grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends who have waited so long, too, will want their turn. I'm already the baby hog - as in, if we are at a bday party or church or wherever, when I get whatever baby is there, I don't share well. I admit it, unapologetically.
I know it won't be all rainbows and butterflies. I will eventually want a break. I will eventually look forward to spend the night parties with Grandma or aunts. I will gladly say, "Oh, you can change him," gladly let someone else feed the messy little booger. Eventually. But for the first little bit, I am the mommy, so you'd better back off. Please :)