Rightly or wrongly, my first thoughts as a mother was that I was unworthy to don this title. “I am a bad mother” echoed in the dark halls of my mind when my son was born. What had I done? Who had I been? Where did I come from? How had I become immersed in such negative thoughts?
Some say it was the lack of Serotonin. Others claim it was hormonal fluctuation. Still others said it was the stresses I endured pre and during pregnancy. There were those who called for a return to God’s embrace, suggesting I had become “the lost sheep”. There were those who said I am being refined by the Refiner’s Fire.
I care little about the what, who, where, when, or how. I only wanted to know if there were any truth to that statement. If so, how could I become a good mother?
“Salvation” came in flesh and blood form. Hand in hand, heart to heart, my husband and I suffered, cried, and wrestled together. He sheltered me from the accusations, denials, and sorrows. He became my hope. He pointed to the every sunrise and its promise of a brand, new day. He is my God-send.
I am a good mother. I can be a “good-er” mother. So can you.