Today I've questioned my ability and my desire to be a mother. So many people tell us that we're amazing parents and that we definitely seem to love this. And most of the time, I do. Most of the time I look at you, my sweet, smiling daughter and my heart swells and I love being your mama.
And then there are days like today. Days where I find myself just wishing you wouldn't need me so much, that you'd shutup and stop fussing, and that for the love of God why can't you find comfort in your daddy's arms the same as mine. Where you won't nap or play by yourself. Where I shout and snap and can't seem to catch a break. And I cry and you laugh because everything I do you delight in.
I feel so in over my head. I work so hard to pump an extra few ounces in between feedings, terrified you aren't getting enough, only to discover you really don't like taking a bottle. I used to dream of a plump little roly poly baby and now I spend most days stressing over how slender you are.
Some day you're going to be a mama and you'll read this and understand. Never have I loved something that pushes me so far to my limits of endurance. I don't know why God made me your mama, and I am sure I'll fail often. But I am determined to do the best I can.