Motherhood

Got myself subscribed for several baby newsletters in 2006 while I waited for Heeya. She was born in January 2007.

One subscription continued as she kept growing up. And among other things, it still sends me these nothings that I love to read.

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Even as your child strives to become her own person, she can never break the bond she has with you.

You have a connection that goes back to before she was born, one that's propped up by affection, memories, and hormones.

When a mom holds her 8-year-old or watches her in a school play, she gets a little hit of oxytocin, a literal reminder of the first hours with her baby.

And when she will kiss an "owie" or help out with homework, they're cementing an attachment that will last for years.

It's enough to make the mom fall in love all over again.

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In summary, a little part of me existing outside of me as another human being. With a scent I could separate from a million fragrances. With a touch that is unexplainably personal. With a voice that echoes my pet words. And a smile that reminds of a warm moist bundle dropping in my arms with her string still tied to me.

Yes she will outgrow. My arms, my cuddlings, me. And soon.

Still, there will be no passion in life more poignant than motherhood. No memory that will remain more treasured than hers.

No person who will ever matter more.