First Mother's Day -

It's not the first Mother's Day I have been a mother (Baby V was in utero this time last year) but it is the first one on which I have known I am a mother. We have been multiply blessed.

Blessing 1: Superfast labor. First time mothers are supposed to have long labors, so I was prepared for 18-24 hours of labor. My mother, for example, was in labor for 26 hours with me. I first felt a teeny contraction about 10:45 at night, and Baby V was born only 9 hours later. Our labor class (which was a Bradley method aka "no drugs", which is NOT my philosophy, but we couldn't find anything else by the time we started looking for classes in the seventh month) had prepared us for innumerable potential exceptions to the normal birth process, but not this one! I kept thinking I was timing my contractions wrong, because at 3 am they seemed like they were coming 4 minutes apart, and one is supposed to mosey along to the hospital when they are coming 5 minutes apart. But the doctor said that I should come on in, and they were checking me in when my water broke around 4:45. Experiencing labor is like wedding planning in one regard - there's no way to make it better except to make it shorter.
Blessing 2: This is a major one. Despite being a first time mom, I needed none of the surgical interventions that can make recovery from labor significantly more difficult. O.O. and I were hanging out in my recovery room after I delivered, and one of the hospital employees kept coming in, looking around, smiling, and leaving. After a few times, we asked her, "Is there something we can help you with?" She said, "No, I am trying to clean the bathroom, but the patient is in there." I said, "No, I'm the patient!" She had assumed I was not the patient - I looked too good!
Blessing 3: Because it was the middle of the night, we encountered no traffic getting to the hospital. Those of you who live in Northern Virginia know that that can be a major issue around here. Baby also decided to come before the blizzard, rather than during.
Blessing 4: My baby is 100% healthy. Progressing right along the 50% line on the growth chart and hitting her developmental goals more or less on time.
Blessing 5: I work at home, so I can take care of her myself. This is a LOT harder than I thought it would be, but it's better than daycare.
Blessing 6: The baby is super happy. She loves to smile and "talk" with us. She's a real charmer.

So I have been very lucky. I wanted to list all these blessings to qualify what I am going to say next, because my experience of motherhood has been comparatively gentle compared to that of single mothers, parents of colicky babies, parents of babies with serious medical problems, mothers who are taking care of an infant and recovering from a caesarian section at the same time, etc.
But in my experience, these 3.5 months of motherhood have been awesome. For the first time in many years, I feel really alive. I love interacting with my baby.
(Probably) to keep expecting mothers from setting their expectations too high, books and friends caution that in the first few months "you'll be getting up every two hours to feed the baby, you won't get any sleep." This is mostly true. But what they don't say is "Every two hours, you'll be cuddling with a tiny, adorable, gentle baby whose only desire is to eat while looking up sweetly into your eyes." So it's not so bad.
Two final thoughts. If you're a curmudgeon, have a baby. It seems counterintuitive - how can someone who is annoyed by people enjoy making another one? It's because everything that is annoying in other people - lying, cheating, blasphemy, disingenousness, malice, willful ignorance, irresponsibility - isn't present in a baby. A baby is always completely honest and straightforward. And even more amazing, he trusts you completely. I was amazed the first time I gave the baby a bottle with some water in it - I thought she would reject it because it didn't taste like milk. But no, she just drank it right down. I could be feeding her Jagermeister for all she cares - if we give it to her, she eats it. I told the Old Oligarch that if I had designed babies, they would be much more skeptical. But ours has an insuperable confidence that we are capable parents, and happily receives whatever we have to give her.
Lastly. When Bill Cosby's son Ennis was murdered in a carjacking a few years ago, he told the press that his son was his "hero." I wondered what he meant by that at time (he's said more about it here), because I couldn't imagine being my mother's hero. But my baby is definitely my hero. I root for her. I want her to win. I want to help her, but I want her, not me, to be the definitive champion over the challenges in her life. If there were Baby V merchandise, I would wear it.
So now that I have experienced motherhood, as blessed as I have been, I am amazed at resentful mothers. The kind who say to their children, "I bore you in my womb for 9 months, and this is the thanks I get?" I can only feel great gratitude for the opportunity to be a mother. Thank you, Baby V, for the best Mother's day ever. Card, schmard.