Growing up I always wanted to be a career woman. Ambitious, well-dressed, and completely independent. I could see it perfectly in my mind.
As I was raised in a big family in rural Washington, there were always so many kids in the house. I was an Aunt at the young age of 12, and took that job seriously (well, as seriously as a 12-year-old possibly could). It was going to be the coolest aunt ever. And for me, it was enough. I hadn’t planned on ever having my own kids. Or even getting married for that matter.
You know how sometimes, even when your childhood is a happy one, you want a completely different experience once you’re an adult? That was my case. I wanted to see what big city life had to offer. I was hungry for opportunity. I wanted to conquer the world.
And along the way, I got pregnant. And it wasn’t planned. Yet, there was no doubt in my mind to accept this great responsibility.
I hear that many women love to be pregnant….they feel amazing….they have this “glow.”
That wasn’t me. I hated being pregnant. I felt it was the worst version of myself, and this made me wonder if I was even going to be maternal.
But once they put little Cash in my arms, all my doubts slipped away. I had never been more certain of anything in my life. My mission was to be a mom.