The first heartbeat.
And nothing has been the same since.
I heard the quick murmur of our first born child and felt relief, fear and excitement all at once. I was alone with my doctor, and the rhythmic sound seemed to fill up the small room. I would later describe this monumental moment to my husband over the phone, in the same fashion that I told him him he was going to be a father in the first place. I used to count the calendar days that he was away from us, but then I stopped. Why dwell on those things we cannot change?
My baby had a heartbeat. That was all that mattered.
Four years later, I am the proud mother of two bouncing boys. My life is filled with Cheerios, diapers, potty time, giggles and kisses. I consider myself one of the luckiest moms in the entire world.
This is my documented journey of motherhood. My triumphs and struggles.
As I attempt to write this page, I have one child spitting out his supper in his highchair, and the other, pantless, in his booster, refusing to eat his. I suppose I should explain the pant situation. Simply, spilled milk.
It could be a lot worse.
Which about sums me up. I refuse to cry over the spilled milk in my life. Instead, I choose to write. I hope to share with you all the things that make my life hilarious, manageable, enjoyable, wonderful, and uniquely mine.
After all, these years will go by in a heartbeat.
