My most important job is to love myself no matter what, to accept that I make mistakes and to carry on. A happy mommy will automatically create a happy baby. Dwelling, worrying and obsessing do not change anything. I will remind myself of this as often as necessary. I am happy.
Take some deep breaths. Everything is alright. No need to play the same story, no need to make excuses, no need to justify. What’s done is done. I can’t change the past. If I need a moment, I’ll take a moment. I’ll have reactions, I’ll have thoughts. I’ll laugh at the irony of how uncharacteristic of me some of the thoughts I have are. I don’t have to panic. I don’t have to torture myself. I do have to accept myself. And also, not make assumptions about the future.
This is an opportunity for me to love myself and in doing so I am learning to love and forgive and even understand my parents, which is what I’ve been wanting for a long time. It seems as though, as children, we sacrifice and endure a lot for our parents’ learning. And yet, this is all part of some unspoken agreement.
I will thrive on purpose. Search for it until I find it and trust that my child knows that he is loved and nurtured and cared for. I want him to know that. And even though this (being a mother) is going nothing how I thought it would (idealistically), there is some inexplicable, honest and dare I say perfect element to all of it that I could have never conjured up. This piece cannot be accessed nor understood by the mind. It can only be discovered when not looking. It can only be stumbled upon in the most awkward and unpleasant moments.