I remember that very final moment, just before the birth of my son. The climax of anticipation for this very second. The pureness of fear and fullness of heart. If ever there were truly a time in my life when I thought my heart would actually burst, the split second before I crossed the threshold into motherhood.
Then I held him in my arms and wave after wave of new emotion crashed. The relief and joy and shock and awe. And tears. Of course, the tears.
I had everything I needed in my hospital bag, a nursery at home fully stocked, friends and family eager to assist with meals and visits, but in no way was I prepared for motherhood. Not even close.