I remember the exact moment I became a mom. It wasn't through the typical labor pains and a long stay at the hospital; at least not the first time. I remember the look on my son's face the minute I realized that I was a mom. The gappy-toothed smile on his face melted my heart just as quick as the wrinkled face of a swaddled new born could melt the heart of its exhausted mother. My soul was so quickly filled with love, I am still reeling from it to this day.
But, I guess I should explain how it is I became a mom, since it wasn't in the traditional manner.
I met Nate when he was 4 months old. He is my husband's son from a previous relationship. I met Nate's dad when I was 16 and he was 19, when my mother set us up on a blind date. At that time, aside from a mutual physical attraction, we didn't have much in common. The relationship didn't last much longer than a year, but we remained best friends. Nate's dad saw me through many good times and many bad over the next six years. My senior year in college everything aligned perfectly for us to be together. And, this time, baby made three.
The situation with Nate's mom was one step worse than strained. For the first four months of Nate's life, his dad took care of him. Nate's mom didn't want him, didn't want to be burdened by him and had dissapeared. Now, when they found out Nate was coming, his parents were already separated with no hope of getting back together; but, her disappearance made things that much more difficult.
Nate's dad called me a lot during those first four months. He wasn't sure what to do with a new born. He was scared, worried, frustrated, tiredall the emotions that first time parents feel all at once. We cried together, we laughed together, we learned together.
When Nate was 4 months old, his dad brought him to my college town to meet me. We went to lunch and then spent the afternoon at my apartment playing with the baby. Nate immediately took to me, and kept giving me the full-body smiles that babies that young are known for. Two months after that, Nate's dad and I were dating again.
When Nate was 8 months, his dad's best friend was killed in Iraq, and I was asked to go with them to the funeral which was three states away. I agreed to go, if not to be with the man I love, to at least help him care for his son in a time of need. And so, we loaded the car with baby gear, our luggage for a couple of days and enough snacks to keep the growing baby satisfied and hit the road.
About half-way through Kansas we all needed a breakand Nate needed out of the car seat before he had a melt-down. At 8 months he wasn't walking, but he wanted to. I took him into the restroom at the truck stop to change his diaper and freshen up myself. As we left the restroom, he was holding my fingers and walking out the door. He kept saying "da-da-da," and I said, "Yes Nate, we are going to find Daddy." He stopped, looked up at me, and with the gappy-toothed smile of a baby said, "Sa."
At first, I wasn't quite sure what he was saying. His dad picked him up and went looking for drinks and snacks to help us on our way, and I went out to the car to clean up some trash. As they walked out to the car Nate's smile was so big and he yelled, "Sa!"
Despite the fact that Nate's mom is in and out of his life, his dad and I agreed that we wouldn't teach him to call me mom (even after we were married). So, I had been teaching him to call me "Lissa." When he called "Sa," he was recognizing my name "Sa" later became "Sissa," which is what he still calls me.
But, that smile and that yell was the first time I felt like a mom. The love in his eyes melted me and I was immediately wrapped around his finger.
Since that time, Nate's dad and I decided to marry. We had a baby girl two years after that, and have grown into a happy "little family." Nate is such a blessing in my life that I could never think of him as anything other than my son. I may be his step-mom, but I love him just as much as I love my daughter and couldn't imagine life without him.
To be continued...
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