Sacrifice

There are many things you sacrifice when you become a mother. The ability to fart or sneeze without the fear of wetting yourself a little bit. The freedom to go out at night and get drunk with friends whenever the mood strikes you (and trust me when I say that in my previous life the mood struck hard and often). A body that can withstand the effects of gravity. When I roll over in bed, my stomach stays put like a deflated pancake sleeping next to me. A sharp mind that has the capacity to think thoughts that do not revolve around baby poo or regurgitated milk or the safety of your child.

But oh what you gain. The chance to be woken up by thin little baby noises only to have her stop and smile at you as soon as you stick your head in her bassinet, her face honestly excited at seeing yours. The sight of your child sleeping soundly on her father’s chest. To have created a family. A warm little body to pick up and hold against you whenever your heart aches for her. The hope at what she will become, a clean slate with every possibility before her. The knowledge that your life is forever linked with this tiny being who will one day grow into a woman.