a certain clarity.

With every birth that happens around me, I get a new confidence in myself as a potential mommy. I think I am going to be a great mom, despite any physical limitations I have. I have a lot of love and knowledge and lessons that I can pass on, and any child I have, I think, will be well-rounded and open to people, no matter how weird or singled-out they may be. My child will be a good person because of my physical disability.

But it is also the part that scares me too. I’m going to be a mom who can’t do every single thing like “normal” moms can. I don’t want my child to grow up and somehow, even the littlest tiny bit, resent me for not being the “normal” mom.

I lay in bed the other night thinking about this (Raelyn’s birth has me feeling baby fever, lol), and it was the first time I have ever doubted myself when it came to future motherhood. I’m not proud to say it because frankly, it was probably one of the worse doubts I have ever felt, like an ache of looking forward to something so badly and then realizing that it isn’t going to happen. And it was just me, overthinking. I asked myself: Is it selfish of me to put a kid through life with a mom in a wheelchair? For a moment, I had almost convinced myself, yes. But at this very moment, I say no, it isn’t. For every thing that I can’t do, his/her daddy will be able to, and also for every thing I can’t do, I will be able to make up for it with something I can. I haven’t quite figured out what those are, but they’ll come. It’s going to have to be a compromise for me. I can’t do this, so I’ll do that.

And there’s that confidence.

I don’t need anyone to tell me I’m going to be a great mom. I already know I will. How do I know? I know I will because I want to be.

It’s in me, that motherly instinct, that nurturing, caring, let-me-hold-you-while-you-cry-over-a-scraped-knee type of love. I have that, and I own it and hold it close. I like that part of me.

I know that my life will never be full until I have done that, had a husband and a family. That’s a part of the plan, and it always has been. It sure has taken me longer than expected to find the husband and start the family, but it’s going to happen. Because it’s in the PLAN, dammit.

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