Mother's Day, Every Day

Sometimes it's hard to believe that I've only been a mom for a few years -- my oldest child is 4 1/2. Yet, when I think of how to describe myself, "mother of 2" is what pops into my mind, long before "entrepreneur." And it feels like more than just an occupation ... it's a calling.

My husband and I were married for over 12 years before our daughter was born; Richard was on the fence about whether having children would really enhance our lives. We were having a great time, working hard, spending our money and traveling whenever we could get away. He had my undivided attention and it seemed like we had everything we could need, so why rock the boat, he thought. And indeed it was a great time -- invaluable now, after 17 years, since it gave us a real foundation for our lives today -- but we decided to jump in and go from being a couple to being a family. Every now and then I try to remember what we worried about before we had children. What were our priorities? Our hopes and dreams? Did we spend all our energy concerned about our careers? Were we consumed with planning our next vacation? I know there were so-called "serious" matters that stressed us out ... I just can't seem to recall what they might have been.

Two weeks ago, our 3-year-old son had a scary accident. He fell out a window onto tile stairs and hit his head hard. Our entire world blurred as we watched him getting a CAT Scan. I tried to make a game of the whole Emergency Room experience, turning the blood pressure machine into something out of a "Ben Ten" cartoon, and the CAT Scan machine into a spaceship, but I have no idea how I managed it. The beat of my heart was pounding in my head like an African drum, and I could barely feel my arms and legs. Mercifully, the diagnosis was simply "concussion," and he has since fully recovered, but the accident only made me feel more powerfully that mother is the single most important word to describe me.

When I'm at the office or away on a business trip, my heart is always back at home with the kids, wishing I could be the one to watch over them, give them baths and read them stories. I'm proud of what I do for work, and genuinely believe I'm helping to make the world a better, safer place for my kids and others, and that's why I do it. But I won't pretend that it's without its compromises, and that I don't regret missing the moments that only take place at home. It's incredible to me that a few years ago, my now-overflowing heart felt full without these little people who now mean the world to me. When does a heart grow new chambers in which to house the feelings of motherhood? Do women magically morph into mothers upon giving birth? I don't think so ... instead, it seems to be an imperceptible progression of shifting emotion and priorities, until one day a career woman fills out a form and, next to "occupation," she fills in "mother."