It is my fourth Mother’s Day as a mom to two children, Jesse, 3, and Brooke, 2 in 20 days. My first Mother’s Day, I was crazy busy with a 3-month infant, nursing school and church wedding preps. My second Mother’s Day, I was a whale and about to pop the second time around, and my last two was and will be spent in the hospital working on the floor. As I think about this Mother’s Day, I visited my two favorite blogs to read what they’ve written in the past about it. Joanna Gaines wrote about encouragement, telling moms that despite our shortcomings, we are doing great in this unbelievably overwhelming thing that is motherhood. My sister’s post, on the other hand, made me cry. Hers was written 3 years ago, but I don’t remember reading it till now. She relived the unfortunate accident our mother had before her 18th birthday. It was a very difficult and stressful time, and it was emotional for me to read what she was going through at that time. I knew Mama was working and saving up for her 18th debut celebration, but I didn’t realize and fully wrap my mind around how hard it would have been for her then until I read her Mother’s Day tribute. I think that it is sharing and learning about each other’s personal experiences that we truly appreciate what our mothers, and ourselves as mothers, have gone through, and are willing to do for us as children, and for our own children. When I was a brand new mom, I was a wreck. I pushed for a record-breaking 4 hours in addition to 14 hours of labor. I had third degree tear and I felt everything since my OB stopped the epidural infusion as I wasn’t pushing well without feeling the pain (the placenta being pulled out hurt like a mother!.. No pun intended.). I was in OB class in nursing school while pregnant so I zeroed in on everything, especially the benefits of exclusive breastfeeding. I was so set on it that I did not have any bottles/sterilizer in my registry list. So a week into it, I was feverish from fatigue and lack of sleep. And then for some reason, up to a month, I would wake up disoriented and feeling like I was slowly rising up from the bed. Now that I’m licensed and I’ve worked on a post surgical unit where pain management is vital, I attribute this weird, scary and something-I-don’t-want-to-go-back-to feeling to a onetime massive dose of painkiller down my spine when I screamed for help after I was sure Jesse was safely out of me. There was a time I was in the shower and I hear Jesse constantly crying but it was just in my head. Every bathroom visit was an epic production number (peeing, pooping, sitting in the bathtub with warm water to facilitate healing of stitches). My breasts had minds of their own and felt so alien and painful. I had elephant legs for about 2.5 weeks after delivery, which I never had during pregnancy. I felt so out of it and I wanted to be always surrounded by people then. When Brooke came, I was a lot more sane (I didn’t need nearly as much painkillers, but it still hurt a lot). I was able to be left alone with the 2 mini people and not get rattled. I slowly got the hang of it and eventually learned to ‘roll with the punches’. And yet all this is just the beginning. Only recently has Jesse transitioned into the ‘terrible’ phase (he’s already three), and he eased into it with a vengeance. He is currently in the possessive world where everything is ‘mine!’, and you get hit if you take it, or if he doesn’t get his way. Brooke, the quiet one, is also now becoming more aware of her environment and is also transitioning to the not-so-quiet type. I have this certainty to bring her to ballet class the earliest age they allow because of her flexibility and habit of walking on tiptoe. We all have a vision/dream of how we want to be as a mother to our children. We get what we think worked in our favor from the way we were raised by our own mothers, and drop whatever didn’t. We push ourselves and strive to be the best for aren’t we only raising the next generation of this world? We give it our all, unnoticeably, to the point of self-neglect. So, today is the day to recognize us: what we do, what we dream of, what we’re capable of, and what we are blessed with. Let us first acknowledge our little blessings, the very reason we are called Mom, Mama, Nanay, Mommy. The gifts God gave us that made us realize and appreciate what we are truly capable of. Then let us celebrate who we are to our children, and pat ourselves on the back because heck yeah, we deserve it! To my mom, God blesses your genuine and gigantic heart every day. You’re a living proof of God’s love because of all your sacrifices as a mother. God smiles upon you because you fulfill His promise of unconditional love. I am blown away by how blessed I truly am to have you for a mother. To my sisters, Kaith and Katrina, I look up to how you raise your lovely children. I’m blessed to have a powerhouse of amazing moms in my life. My mother-in-law who provided support during my first months as a mom without question, I am always grateful. For my sister-in-law who is a mother by nature, always jumping at the chance to help with anything involving the little bosses, you are amazing. There are so many beautiful stories to be told of all the incredible mothers I am blessed to be surrounded with. God smiles upon each and everyone of us today. And each day thereafter. Share how you celebrate your powerhouse of amazing moms and tag us @cornbunch on IG. Happy Mother’s Day!