Although this is my second time being a mother on Mother's Day,
in a lot of ways it feels like the first.
Last year on this day, Greta was just weeks old,
I was popping some serious painkillers,
and moving at a snail's pace after my c-section.
I thought I knew then the strength it took to be a mother
just from enduring the physical hardship of bringing a child into this world.
While I definitely still believe that mothers are physical warriors
(no matter how their babies are birthed),
man, oh man, have I learned so much about the strength of a mother
over the course of this past year.
I can only imagine that as the years pass,
my respect for motherhood will continue to increase,
as I am sweetly (and not so sweetly) humbled by my role as mother.
Now, please don't get me wrong...
I love motherhood.
I can hardly remember life before.
I love my Greta Grace in ways that I didn't think my heart could love.
She brings me such joy and delight,
and I would nevereverneverever trade being her mama for anything.
But, I say all of this to emphasize the women in my life
who have gracefully and patiently endured the role of mother
for me, and now for my Greta Grace.
My heart is humbled by the gratitude I have for them.
These women are strong.
These women are kind.
These women are forgiving.
These women are loving.
These women are self-sacrificing and generous.
These women are encouraging and helpful.
These women are life-giving and joyful.
These women are fiercely protective and, yet, delight in independence and growth.
These women are my mothers.
For them, I am grateful.