Eighteen years ago this past April, I gave birth to my wonderful son, Codi. When I tell you that I was not prepared for motherhood, I couldn’t be realer. I was 17 when I got pregnant, and 18 when I gave birth. I was still wet behind the ears, I was a child myself. And here I was, now caring for someone else. I was frustrated. I was distraught. I was through. And yet, every time I saw his face, I knew that it was bigger than me.
I owed it to him to give him the best life I could, regardless of my age. We struggled a lot, but we always had a roof over our heads. I maintained steady jobs and later went to school. I wasn’t the June Cleaver that I felt I should’ve been, and yet, in each picture of my son when he was younger, he was always smiling and happy (don’t mind the picture to your left, LOL). God helped me so much during that time, and without him, I don’t know how I would’ve made it. My family was also supportive, especially my father who was instrumental in being a great dad and grandfather emotionally and financially.
I was a Teen Mom before the reality show, before the After School specials, and before the Lifetime movies. On one hand, I had no idea what I was doing. But on the other hand, I did what I had to do for me and my baby to survive. I was single with virtually no help from his father, and yet, we made it through. I kept following that light at the end of the tunnel until it was so brilliant, I had to squint my eyes.
Now that little boy is 18 and graduating high school in just a few days. It was me and him against the world for years. And now he is going on his own and making his own way.
When my son was 9 and a half, I gave birth to my daughter, The Chicklet. I got married and we became one big family. But the bond that my son and I had remained strong, despite him becoming and teen and sometimes rebelling. He gets that I haven’t been the best mom, but he also appreciates everything I have done for him despite the obstacles that were before me.
I was supposed to be the woman with a whole bunch of kids with several baby daddies, on welfare, living in public housing. This was what people told me I would amount to as a teen mom. I wasn’t told what I could do, what I could be. There were times that I didn’t think I was going to make it.
Faith is amazing. When you have it, you understand those can’ts, but you try anyway because you know that you can. Faith allows you to believe in something greater than you. And with that knowledge, there is no limit to what you can do.
So, I wasn’t (and I am still not) the perfect mom. But I love both of my kids more than anything. And despite being a statistic, I challenged it and made something happen.
Now my son is getting ready to soar on his own. And I am so freaking proud!
I went from Teen Mom to Dream Mom. There’s a lot of us out there that took a negative and made it a positive as it relates to being a parent. And to all of you, I salute you. If no one tells you how special you are, let the facts show that you are.
YOU ARE A GIFT.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms, no matter the circumstances, the consequences, the roadblocks, the bad days, the stress, the worry, the fear, the lack of appreciation, the heartaches, the letdowns, the tears. Being a mom is the best job on the earth. And you are a DREAM MOM.
Pass it on…