My Motherhood Journey: How a Sassy Single Gal Realized She'd Be a Mom One Day
As much of a planner as I've always been, I always was reserved about motherhood. The traditionalist in me figured that I'd know if I wanted to be a mom when I knew who I'd share that journey with.
I was a serial singleton — from high school, through college and throughout my 20s. Some of this was because until I left home to go to college in New York City I was painfully shy and awkward — I was like the original man repeller. Thankfully, New York pretty much beat that out of me. But then when it came to dating, not only was I really picky, I was afraid. Afraid of meeting Mr. Wrong. Afraid of regretting a bad relationship. So many of my friends had nightmare stories of the months and years they wished they could get back that were spent with awful, sometimes abusive men. I didn't want that. So I buried myself in books and, when I graduated, work. But I always hoped that I'd meet someone to share my heart and life with. I was an English major, after all, and had read my share of Jane Austen and Thomas Hardy.
Fast forward to my mid-30s. I started thinking that maybe a soul mate wasn't in the cards. I was busy with my career and I had amazing friends, many of them also single, independent, self-made women. We were living pretty fabulous lives in a pretty wonderful city.
But one New Year's Eve I got this hunch. A friend and I were driving from L.A. to a party in the Bay Area, through a rainstorm, and when it broke there was a giant rainbow spanning the I-5. I just knew: 2006 was going to be the year when things would change. Someone was out there waiting for me and I just had to find him. It took eight months, but on August 15 of that year, I met my future husband, Kevin, at a work event. We hit it off immediately, talked about a bunch of things we had in common, and exchanged business cards. We started dating two months later; we were engaged a year and a half after that; and married almost exactly two years after we met.
The thing that I loved most about Kevin was that he was normal. He wasn't a flake. He wasn't hung up on some crazy ex-girlfriend. He wasn't self-consumed. When you're dating in a city like Los Angeles, full of artists and dreamers, these are pretty common traits you have to compete with. But not this guy. If Kevin said he was going to call to set up our next date, he called. He never texted. He opened doors for me, literally. He insisted on paying the bill at all our dates. At first I fought this. This was the 21st century. I could pay, too. But he really pushed: "Please let me do this for you, it means a lot to me." I thought, "Who is this alien sent down from whatever planet to woo me?" He was unlike anyone I had ever met.
I'd been working since I was 15 years old. I moved to New York for college right after I turned 18. I was the mother hen to all my college friends — reminding them to call home on Mother's Day or Father's Day. I did everything on my own, and I hated ever having to ask for help. I was fiercely independent. And stubborn. But Kevin got me to let my guard down. I let him take care of things — and me — for a change.
I pretty much knew within a few weeks of dating that he was the one. And I knew he'd be an amazing father.
So it's weird that my journey into motherhood started by realizing that I was going to spend the rest of my life with someone who was destined to be a father. A good one. But that was how it happened. Our journey into pregnancy and parenthood is another story for another post. But on this Mother's Day in 2016, my fifth as a mama to my son Salvador, I realize now that motherhood was my destiny, too. I'm a good mom. I adore my son. I would do anything for my amazing, little family. I'm not necessarily the best working mom — more on that later — but I can't imagine my life any differently than it is right now.