“Jude … come here, buddy.” I looked into the eyes of my toddler as he slowly walked toward me. I had just corrected him out of frustration in a tone that was too harsh — it was the first time I can remember doing so. I was filled with remorse as I looked at his forlorn little face, feeling like I had just completely failed in my motherhood journey.
From the moment my little son Jude was placed in my arms, my heart was filled with deep, maternal love for him. I had been waiting for that day for nine months, to meet the precious child God had blessed us with. I felt so ready to be a mom. I couldn’t wait to have a tiny person to love, train, care for, and cuddle.