I remember I was about 8 months pregnant when it first hit me that I was really, actually about to be responsible for another human being.
I mean, I’m not stupid. I knew I was pregnant, I knew the result was a baby. Duh.
But as I sat in his soon-to-be nursery and looked around, I rubbed my belly and cried. I already felt inadequate and woefully unprepared for the task of raising a child. I remember talking to him for the first time, telling him how badly I wanted to be a good mother for him and how I’d do whatever I could.
“I hope I don’t disappoint you,” I remember telling him through tears.
As it turns out, I was a lot more prepared than I thought I was. It hasn’t always been easy, but from the moment I met him I knew I loved him enough to do what I had to do.
For the most part, I can chalk that up to maternal instincts (and lots of prayer), but surprisingly, there’s a lot about being a police wife that prepared me to be a mom.