It’s a strange and beautiful thing to watch my daughters become mothers.
I struggle to see them suffer. Through nauseating, vomiting, pregnancies. Through labor that lasts three days. Through the postpartum depression. Through babies with reflux, through a cranky child-a new tooth breaking through gums.
But there are moments...
When they coddle a newborn just so.
When the child sees her and lights up.
When she "coos."
When she and her five year old laugh together.
When she handles a difficult teenager with patience and just the right words.
When I turn from my breakfast in the kitchen, I catch my daughter in what feels like a painting.
For motherhood is art.
Comments