All living things contain a measure of madness that moves them in strange, sometimes inexplicable ways. This madness can be saving; it is part and parcel of the ability to adapt. Without it, no species would survive.
-Yann Martel Life of Pi
There are few words that can explain the intricacies of being a mother. I could describe the pain felt in labor, the exhaustion of being awake night after night, or the pleasure in my little one resting her perfect head against my chest or smiling a gummy smile, but I can't get at that feeling, the core of motherhood. I could say how when I leave her, even if only for 20 minutes, I feel as though I am in the wrong place. I can divulge the frustration in not being able to sleep with her, but not being able to sleep without her as well. Anecdotes regarding poopy mishaps and runny noses could be exchanged, but still none of those things encapsulate what it is to be a mom. It gets more difficult everyday, and I have a feeling women who have raised teenagers would say I have reached but the tip of the iceberg, yet every iota of hard is rewarded a million times multiplied by wonder. Wonder that I was able to give life to this amazing person. Wonder that I am fortunate enough to witness her grow. Wonder at the bounds of developments she experiences everyday. Wonder at attempting to imagine the world through her eyes; huge and exciting and perfect. Though there are times when I reach a precipice, all of the missed hours of sleep and dirty diapers piled high, and I need a bit of time to breathe in a quiet space, it only makes me love her more. For in my time spent in solitary silence, I realize how empty my world would be without her, now that she has graced us with her docile sweetness. When asked what it feels like to be a mom, I could express all of these things, but in the end only one word can do it justice: Love.