When I first walked into my friends' house to watch the super bowl tonight, I was immediately in defensive position. I had expected a few people watching the game, but I was not expecting three children under the age of four plus my friend who's visibly pregnant to be there. While I didn't have any problems hanging out with them, I was unprepared emotionally for the fertile bombardment.
But after I settled into the environment, I actually found the presence of this young life to be quiet rejuvenating. I love kids. Over the past few weeks, I have definitely had moments of doubt: doubt in my own ability as a mother, doubt in my desire to be a parent. But being around all those little hands and feet tonight reminded me that I don't have a doubt in the world. I want to be a mommy, and I'm more than ready to be a mommy. As my friends' daughter fell asleep on my chest, I thought about my journey. I thought about the cigarette I wasn't having because she was asleep on top of me. And I didn't care. None of it mattered. It didn't matter that I had to eat my pie left-handed or that I couldn't watch the game. All that mattered was her and giving her a soft, warm place to sleep.
I'm ready. I'm bruised, but I'm ready.
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