A Mother’s Love
The perfect mother’s love is not a universal switch. It is a spark.
It ignites at a different, private moment for every woman.
For some, it starts as a whisper—the future hope of holding a baby.
For others, it’s the sudden jolt of seeing two pink lines.
It is the drumbeat of a tiny, distant heart on the monitor.
It is the fierce flutter of the first kick—a secret shared between two.
For some, the spark flares when they see the angelic, gentle face in their arms for the very first time.
And for others, the spark catches fire the moment they choose this child—the day they sign the papers that make the promise eternal.
This love is the most complicated choice you will ever make.
It is no longer just yourself; it is an all-encompassing bond that grows exponentially with each child.
It is strong and firm when it needs to be, but always gentle and nurturing.
It is special because it lives in two extremes at once.
It is wanting desperately to fight all their battles and protect them from discomfort.
But knowing you must step back so they can struggle and grow.
It is being on the ready, knowing you will catch them when they fall.
One minute, you have the impossible instinct of knowing their every need.
The next, you are swallowed by the frustrated unknown.
You have exhausted all your ideas, but the demand to fix it is constant.
It is the one relentless commitment that never requires a reason.
This love endures through every single stage of life.
It began in the trenches of the first sleepless nights.
It was built by kissing countless boo-boos and calming all the nightmares.
It endures through the silent struggle of homework and the pain of not making the team.
It supports the first awkward relationships and the eventual spreading of their wings.
This love is knowing you gave all of you to make all of them.
And knowing they will take all of it away one day when it is time to be on their own.
This is the deep, final truth of a mother’s love.
It does not require validation or a reward.
It is the one promise you cannot and will not ever break.
For some, this precious time is cut tragically short.
For the mothers of miscarriage, that love is held in the silence—a memory known only to the two souls that briefly shared a journey.
For others, all that remains is a handful of worn-out photos.
It is the love that persists even on the days you don’t feel like you are enough.
It is the constant decision to choose them, regardless of the chaos.
Stop measuring your worth by the things that aren’t clean or the tasks that are incomplete.
The only thing that matters is the magnitude of the love you have given.
You must remember: The commitment you made is enough, and so are you.
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