This is me, mere hours (maybe even just minutes) into motherhood. I’ve heard this period of time—the 60 minutes or so following delivery where it’s just you, your spouse, and your baby in the room—referred to as The Golden Hour.
For us, Golden Hour happened to be on a Friday morning in early fall with the City of Columbus outside our window, busy getting wherever she needed to go. As for our family of three, we were already right where we were meant to be, Ty and I slowly taking in every inch of our brand new, beautiful baby boy.
I don’t need to say it, but motherhood is certainly not one continuous Golden Hour. The long days, the learning curves, and the lack of sleep are just a few reasons why this is true. But if you look hard enough, you’ll find that the gold is still there:
That moment when your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the one you nurtured from birth dancing around the sunlit room. Or all the times you simply can’t help but gobble those cheeks and nibble those toes because you know they won’t be this little forever. The unprompted kisses and hearing him say “mama” and all the other magic that’s so easy to miss.
Above all else, Mother’s Day reminds me of the privilege it is to be Ford’s mom. A mother may not be all that I am, but it certainly requires everything I have, especially during this season of mothering in the tiny years. But when I remember that this is something I GET to do, amid the simultaneous joy and struggle (because there’s never one without the other!), I find that I’m simply overwhelmed with gratitude.
So here’s to all of it—the Golden Hours and the not-so-gilded ones. The hard, the happy, and the heartbreakingly sweet.
Oh, that I wouldn’t ever take it for granted.
delta 8
Golden Hour