When I think of my mother and how I would like to honor her on Mother’s Day, I have always had the same perspective, year after year.How can I, on this one day, thank her for all she has done and continues to do for me, her daughter?I look at the day from the angle of a daughter, giving pause to all of the things she has done for me – until this year I never once thought about what I might do for her as a mother.I have never stopped to ponder the bond she shared with me before I was born, the anticipation she must have felt on that Mother’s Day two months before I was born or the feelings of joy I bring to her life, knowing that she created me. Her early sacrifices gave me this life and perhaps I have never thanked her for them.I am her third child of five and the second of two girls, yet I often feel I am the only one. She loves each of us differently and with an intensity that makes us know we count.In January, when David and I discovered that I might be keeping a new life safe inside of me, my whole idea of what it means to be the daughter of a mother changed.I waited as patiently as possible for the weeks to pass, often not believing that I could really become a mother. My first doctor’s appointment wasn’t until March – and until a doctor confirmed the news, I wasn’t going to be a true believer. Surely, a couple of $3 tests from Wal-Mart could be wrong.I wasn’t sick, my clothes still fit and life was continuing as it always had. On a day-to-day basis, I didn’t feel any different. During this time, though, my relationship with my mother was different. Her pregnancy with me was not a walk in the park. Until I was born, she was very sick, and the possibility of losing me was very real.In hearing her stories, I began to learn a different aspect of being a mother. I heard of her concerns and the many worries she had had during the time. I heard of the many things she gave up, just to keep me safe inside her womb.I was learning what it is to be a mother.After deciding to doctor in Luverne, I chose (nearly blindly) to trust my health and that of my unborn bundle of joy with Dr. Timothy Mulder.On that fateful first meeting, he confirmed what the pink stripes had indicated – I was going to be a mommy.Excitement in my house grows exponentially with every passing day, as does the size of my belly. David and I love our home in Hills and both agree that it is the perfect community to trust in helping us raise our family.I know that I have mountains to learn about being a mother and that the process won’t always be fun, but I am looking forward to years of Mother’s Days to come. Next year’s celebration will not only focus on my mom, but on me as well. That is just amazing to me.Giving up my extracurricular drinks for awhile and being forced into a less than desirable wardrobe seem like insignificant sacrifices when I consider the reward.I can only imagine that preparing for the birth of my first child and the upcoming life events that the child will inevitably produce will find their way into my columns. For readers with zero desire to read about parenting and pregnancy, I have devised a plan. On days I plan on musing over these subjects, I will put a clever little graphic by the title of the column.For instance, if I need to share how carrying this baby has me eating ALL the time, there might be a little rattle next to my picture, or if changing diapers starts to get to me after awhile, readers might find a cute cartoon diaper near the top. Think of it as a warning for those of you not interested and a flag for others who find my stories of cats, opossums, snakes and rats less than amusing.In closing, I would again like to thank my mother for all the sacrifices she has made, both in my production and in ensuring that my life is always as delightful and happy as can be. Enjoy your day, Mom. You deserve it!Story ideas or comments can be emailed to Lexi Moore at lexim@star-herald.com or called in at 962-3561.