I remember with such fondness, the moment my husband and I decided it was time to grow our family of two and conceive our first child. It was a magical, intimate affair filled with passion and unwavering love. A truly beautiful bonding experience as we held one another’s hand and journeyed through to the next chapter of our lives together. There was music. There were candles. There was the perfect juxtaposition of passionate spontaneity and committed premeditation at its finest. And when I often think back to those early days of young love, there’s not one minute detail of that particularly extraordinary moment in our lives that I can’t remember, as though it were yesterday.
Fast forward several years later on the eve of Mother’s Day, and I can think of nothing more that I could ever want then to experience the magic of growing our family once again to include another bundle of joy. Now — don’t get my wrong — there was just as much vested love behind this all-so important decision to proliferate once again, but the scene was set a bit differently… ok, a lot differently and actually let’s get it straight, there was no scene- there was very simply a bed, two hurried people on it and a clock that was feverishly ticking down the seconds. Trying to capitalize on the brief window of opportunity we had to ‘fit it in’ before we were found by our 3 year old is like trying to swim upstream with ankle weights on. Not an easy feat, let me tell you.
So while we may not have been afforded the same set of blissful circumstances nor the chance to relish in the magnitude of the moment, one thing is certain; it was beautiful and imperfect, just like motherhood. And as for the candles? I guess we’ll just have to save them for the kid’s birthday cakes.