My name is ....

Mom
Stephen will say my name until I answer him verbally with a "what." He will say Mom about 100 times if that's what it takes. Then he will share his story with me.
At bedtime I whisper I love you to each of my children. Most of the time they come back with "I love you too Mom."
I love that name. I love hearing it from my children. I don't vividly remember the first time each of my kids said it, but I recall that feeling it gave me. The "yes, I am your mom, and it feels good to know that," feeling.

Being a mom is hard. You could have told me that before I had my first and it wouldn't have stopped me. It's one of those things that you have to experience to understand. I describe to you all of the challenges I have faced and will continue to face, but you won't/can't get it until you are facing them yourself. Yes, being a mom is hard. It takes a lot of sacrifice.

I am a mom... That realization still shocks me from time to time. I'm sitting there surrounded by four lovely kids and they are all calling me MOM.

October 2002: After being married on two months we find out that we are pregnant. Oh wow! The next several months are a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation.

May 17, 2003: After having contractions all night we called the Dr who said we should get ready to go to the hospital. I look at Paul and say: Okay, now I'm nervous.

It's true, I wasn't nervous one bit until it the moment had arrived. Until that moment all I had were some alien movements in my grotesquely misshapen body. I didn't have a fairytale reaction to pregnancy. I didn't coo over my growing tummy, I didn't cry over the ultrasound photos, I didn't talk to my belly thinking about my babe. I just rode the waves. I traveled through it and until the last 3 weeks I had zero complications. For me, it was just another day... But then that fateful moment arrived. A child was coming out of me and I was going to be its mother. Now, I'm scared.

May 18, 2003 3:30 am: My daughter Catherine arrived. She is mine to hold. Mine to care for. My responsibility. I am her mother, and no one else can lay claim to her.

As I said, I don't remember the day she or any of her brothers first said "mom." But that doesn't really matter now does it? They know who I am long before they can say it. Those late nights when we just gaze at each other through feedings. I'm not just a women with a bottle, I am their comfort. No one can calm my babe the way I can. How about when their eyes follow you around the room? Or when they cry when you step out of their field of vision? Yes, they know I am mother, long before they can say it.

And now, with my kids at 3s, 4, and 6 they can say it. Most of the time I hear my name in the most ordinary of fashions.

Mom, I'm hungry?

Mom!? Where are you?

Mom, can we watch a movie?

Then there's the whine...

mooooooom, I want....

mooooooooooom, can you please let me....

Sometimes they are mad.

But mom, that's not fair.

But mom I wanna

MOM!

Yup, it starts early and continues on. I have yet to hear "I hate you," and I pray for strength to handle it if that day comes. I also pray that my kids never feel the need to say it. Yes, they will be angry at me. Yes, we will fight. Yes, they will love me for it all.

Those bad days are minimal compared to the good ones. The good ones are filled with laughter and joy and affection (verbal and physical).

I marvel at being a mom... the power bestowed on me... the trust given... I have four souls to form... for beauties to love... to nurture.... I am a mom... and will be one until death...

(Disclaimer: I feel exclusive when writing this but only because I can't think and feel for my husband. When talking about the connectivity shared between my and my children I don't intend to exclude Paul. From my point of view he is as every bit as connected to our children as I am. Those late nights with infants? I didn't do them on my own. We took turns. When I say I am the only one who could comfort my child, really that includes Paul too. In fact, (here's a first confession) when the twins were born I felt a total disconnect from David. Josh nursed and Dave didn't so Paul took on D while I took on J for the night feeds (and daytime when he was home). David cried for months and it was Paul that stayed up with him, night after night. ANYWAY, these thoughts are mine on motherhood but I dare not say any of this to detract away from the beauty of fatherhood)