There was a mom with a baby in a waiting room that I was in. My kids are now school-aged. Not babies. Not young kids. My eyes glance over to her and that beautiful babe and just stick like glue. I start to recall when I was that my mom alone with a baby in a waiting room. There were so many things I didn’t know, so much growth I had yet to experience, to learn.
Realizing it’s rude and she probably noticed by now I quickly shake my head and the thoughts that took me down memory lane. I think oh gosh, I’m so sorry for staring momma, but I just can’t help it.
When my babes were little, I didn’t soak up as much as I should have because, honestly, I was just trying to survive. Barely sleeping, questioning everything I did and if I was doing a good job as a mom. Postpartum depression was setting in and I didn’t know it. It was tough. It was a struggle. I wasn’t where my feet were. My mind was in a million places.
Now I have older kids who talk back, tell me they don’t like anything I make them, and have their own opinions. Bad? No, but very different than when you are your baby’s whole world. So seeing that mom and baby just takes you back to those moments that seemed like they took forever to get through, but yet flew by in a second.
So momma, next time you see another momma staring – I’m sorry, but we just can’t help it.
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