I was told that I would develop tunnel vision for my little girl once she was born. I was told I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. I was told that my priorities would change greatly just as soon as she came into the world. I was told that I would never experience a love quite as deeply as that love for my child. I can’t say that I was skeptical, I understood that there was no greater love than that between a mother and her child, but I also didn’t think that my experience would be the same. Even throughout my pregnancy I feared the true emotions I would have once she arrived.
Cue the grand entrance of Miss T . . .
Everyone was right. This little girl quickly became the light of my life.
There were, however, things that no one told me.
No one told me I would smile when I found poo on my hands. No one told me that I could survive for months on end with very broken sleep because her whimper or grunt or cry would give me the energy I needed. No one told me that my heart would almost burst with love when she looked up at me, nipple still in her mouth, and grinned a huge grin.
This little girl, at just under two feet tall, has me in the palm of her hand. And I couldn’t be happier.