being a mother.

there are certain times when your status as somebody's mother hits you like a ton of bricks.
like the 1st time you hold, wear or catch the fresh warm offal of another human being.
you think,
"omg!! this is what only parents do, i'm really a parent now!"

or the 1st time you watch one of your children become gravely ill,
choke until they turn blue, or have a seizure or anaphylactic reaction.
and you think,
"my life depends on yours - if this child dies, i will die, too -
omg, i am really a mother."

or deep in the dark watches of the night, when lispy little declarations
of love are whispered fervently in the general direction of your breast.
and you think,
"i am your mother, what on earth did i have to live for before you?"

and sometimes you have to look a little harder for it.
like when you always hang your leather belt on the empty towel rod
in the bathroom, just so.

and one day you walk in and there's a miniature copy
of your brown leather belt hanging right next to yours, side by side,
hung just so.
and you think,
"i am her mother - she wants to be just like me. how lucky am i?"