Being a single mother to a young child often means Mothers’ Days go by quietly without celebration of flowers or gifts.
Before going to bed tonight, my 7-year-old gave me a kiss and said to me, “Thank you mommy for giving birth to me on the first day of Spring”.
Those who know my story would understand how, at these words, all the hardship and sacrifice I endured to bring this little life into the world, were instantly validated.
When a child is born, so is the mother. All of her hopes and dreams gradually realign with the needs of this little person. She never sleeps well again, until she hears the restful breaths of her child’s slumber. The mere thought of losing her child paralyses her with fear, yet she experiences no greater joy, than the delight of that child running back into her arms.
Being a young, single mother had been an arduous journey, and would likely continue to be. But I have never looked back, since that faithful first day of Spring, when my heart decided it was going to walk outside my body for the rest of my life.
This post originally appeared on facebook.com/jaxepan