Before you I was just me. A college graduate. A writer, a friend, and a sister, a wife and a daughter.
Before you I had plans. So many plans. To travel to Europe, write a book of short stories, learn how to cook.
Before you I had worries. Daily – hourly -- worries that flooded my mind at the most inopportune of times. Worries about not making enough money; worries that I didn’t spend enough time nurturing relationships. Worries that I was losing my passion for so many things.
Before you I had free time. So much free time to do anything, really, even if it was nothing of real value.
Before you I wondered if my hopes for the future would come true. How I wondered, or rather, obsessed over those plans. Would I actually get to live out those hopes? Would they materialize? Was I doing enough to get to where I wanted to be?
Before you I enjoyed the sound of quiet. Those nights when only crickets could be outside my bedroom window were therapeutic.
Before you I was always in a rush. Constantly running from one thing to the next. Always looking toward the future, never fully appreciating the present.
Before November 22, 2012, exactly 11 months 17 days ago, I was just me. An aspiring parent.
Now that you’re mine I’m still me but a better version. At least I hope that’s true. And it’s what I strive to be.
Now that you’re mine I’m still a writer, a friend, a sister a wife and a daughter. Only now, all my writing is inspired by you. Now my friends are your family and my husband has a new label: Dad.
Now that you’re mine my plans have altered in ways that I couldn’t have foreseen 11 months 17 days ago. Now I wait for the day to discover Europe and experience traveling with you. Until then I scour websites for daily excursions to libraries, parks and playgrounds that I know you’ll love.
Now that you’re mine the worrying has intensified. But the worries have shifted to your wellbeing. Am I doing this parent thing right? Luckily pure exhaustion from lack of sleep keeps me from dwelling on this question all night. I’ll always worry.
Now that you’re mine my free time is limited. Of course I still have pockets of time but I struggle between using that time to go the gym/watch TV/go out with the girls or spending time with you. You usually win. But I know I need to start doing some things for myself. Like, take a zumba class.
Now that you’re mine I’ve rediscovered my passion for so many things. But I’ve also discovered new interests such as crafting, baking and yes finding new ways to make you laugh. Oh what fun we’re going to have little girl.
Now that you’re mine too quiet equals something is not right. You snore, and toot in your sleep. You scream. Laugh. Cry and you, my darling girl are quite the chatty Cathy. These sounds that fill the house are now the soundtrack to my life.
Now that you’re mine I force myself to slow down. Reminding myself that moving too fast will result in missing something that can’t be recreated.
Now that you’re mine I’ve finally been blessed with the title of Mom. NO longer aspiring, no longer grasping for something that was supposed to be out of reach/
Thank you my little Brynna, my boom boom, my firecracker for being patient with me for the past 11 months and 17 days as I navigated the sometimes confusing channels of parenting. And thank you n advance for patience you’ll have to practice as I fumble and fall on this road called parenting. My promise: I’ll always get back up.
Most importantly, thank you for showing me how much I was missing before you became mine.