This time last year I was eight weeks pregnant. Hardly anyone even knew I was pregnant, but the few who did wished me a happy Mother's Day. Someone sent me a sweet card that made me cry—but I also cringed a little. The word "mother" didn't fit. It felt like I was trying on a costume that was too big and too stiff. I didn't feel like a mother; I just felt bloated and so tired I couldn't stand up straight.
But today? My heart overflows with a love I couldn't imagine last year. This chubby, giggly little person—who was the size of a kidney bean a year ago—has made me a mother. And instead of a too-big costume, it fits like my favorite pair of soft, broken-in jeans.
What a year it's been.
Happy Mother's Day to all the mamas, most especially mine, who remains the Greatest Mom in the World for the 25th year running. Love you mostest, Mom.