#mybonusmomstory

[marisadonnelly]

I always imagined motherhood like white linen sheets and a crib at the foot of my bed. Like running a hand over my smooth, swollen belly. Like a flushed face and ice cream right out of the carton, talking about baby names with my husband, going spoonful for spoonful.⠀ ⠀ I always imagined ultrasounds and appointments, nervous butterflies as they searched for the heartbeat and quiet moments alone reflecting on how it would feel to lose a part of myself as I gained an entirely different world.⠀ ⠀ But becoming a mother was none of those things.⠀ Becoming a mother was 8-year-old, hazel-brown eyes looking up at me in wonder for the first time in the middle of a small-town pumpkin patch. It was glasses and size five shoes. It was graphic novels and video games, snack wrappers and dirty fingers.⠀ ⠀ Becoming a mother was the first I love you whispered in a dark bedroom as an echo to my lullaby. It was signing a lease and realizing this home was more than just a physical place. It was the first time my voice caught in my throat as I said “my son” and realized I meant it.⠀ ⠀ I always imagined motherhood to be this enormous, yet far-in-the-distance decision. I thought, like the forward-thinker I am, I would have time to be ready, to be prepared.⠀ ⠀ I thought I would know what I was doing and be less afraid.⠀ But becoming a mother was a whirlwind. It was a single choice—saying yes to a man and realizing that I was saying yes to a little boy, too. And yet, in a sense, it was unconscious.⠀ ⠀ As much as I had a say, my version of motherhood chose me.⠀ ⠀ 📷: @denisekophoto #mothersdayreflections⠀ #mybonusmomstory https://www.instagram.com/p/CAEOolzFgzZ/?igshid=n0kq55w4s5lb