My Mother is Strength

When we are born, the first person we cling to, the first person we befriend, the first person we love, is our mother. Now that I am a mother myself, I look at the bond between mother and child differently. I reflect on my childhood and all that my mother has sacrificed, and I am even more grateful for her love and dedication now than I was then. It takes great strength to bring a child into the world, but it takes an even greater strength to raise one; to constantly be present, patient, understanding, and loving, through every season and every struggle. A good mom is all of these things without question, without hesitation, and oftentimes without gratitude. Well, my momma isn’t just a good mom, she is a great one. She is all of these things, every day, and every hour, for four children who love and depend on her greatly. She is the epitome of strength, persistence, and unwavering love and support. Now, as I try to navigate my own motherhood journey, I seek to emulate her and all her glory.

When I became pregnant with my son, I was terrified. I was terrified of all the changes a baby would bring, the responsibility I would have to bear, and the fierce love that I would have for him. I knew my life would never be the same. When he was born, like many mothers I struggled with postpartum depression and anxiety. I was tired from restless days and nights, my body was fragile, my mind was working against me, and all the while I had to take care of a tiny, helpless creature who depended on me for survival. I had grossly underestimated how difficult the transition would be, and I wasn’t sure how I could continue to go about life as if things were normal after such a monumental change. Assignment due dates came and went, nights and days blended together, and my return to work loomed around the corner. When it felt like everything I had worked so hard for was slipping through the cracks, like my sanity was nearly lost, and my child was better off without me, my mother dropped everything and saved me. She brought me home, cooked me my favorite meals, and looked after my cranky newborn so that I could catch up on work and rest. Thanks to her efforts at a time when I was most vulnerable, I was able to finish the semester and a year later I completed my bachelor’s degree. When I reflect on those moments of support and comfort, I think about all that my mother has done for me. The adversity she faced and the hardships she endured while still keeping a brave face for us. The nights she’d come home from a ten hour work day exhausted beyond comprehension and would still cook us dinner. The way we didn’t have much, but she’d always try her best to ensure that we had everything we needed to live happy, healthy lives. She made countless sacrifices then, and still makes many now even as we’ve entered adulthood. She has given so much of herself, not just to me but to every one of her children. Looking back on my childhood and all of her selfless actions helped me realize what it truly means to be a mother and know exactly what type of mother I want to be.

I want to be a mother that always gives love to her child, regardless of any mistakes they make. I want to be a mother that is patient, kind, and understanding in every moment, even the hard ones when I’m at my wits end. I want to be a mother that gives her child everything that they need, even if it means I go without. I want to be a mother who supports her child unconditionally and endlessly, in any way that they need, even in adulthood. I want to be a mother that is constant, dependable, and unwavering. I want to be the type of mother that my mother is to me.