These Ordinary Days

I awake, fuzzy. Then I remember, with star-splitting wonder: my baby. I’m pretty sure new moms should not move around much, but I can’t help it. I shuffle into our room. There, tucked into the crook of Sterling’s arm, lies my baby. They are asleep, white sheets and comforter crumpled comfortably around them. Motherhood smites me with crazy little tingles of joy, bells going off in my heart and head in full symphony. I kiss them both, my husband and my son. And because I am not a crying woman, no one sees, but tears course down across my heart. I did not know that love could feel so much.

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Reading Anna Martin’s stories feels like talking comfortably with a sister or friend, sharing honestly about struggles and strengths, inadequacies and rewards. She notices and soaks in the small joys of family life, reminding us of the wonder of motherhood, even in the most ordinary of days.