Skip to main content

Motherhood

 I am currently sitting on our living room couch, with a cold beverage that I opened for myself a few minutes ago, with one eye on the daycare handbook and the other on the monitor. Baby monitor specifically. I am watching as Ike tries to coax this precious 1.5 year old girl, who recently joined our family through foster care, to sleep. She goes to daycare for the first day tomorrow at 7:30am and girlfriend likes to sleep in past 9 and had to be woken up for 8:30 church today so I am unsure how tomorrow will go. 

My Mom and I 

Today - Mother's Day - is an odd holiday for the women who have not lived a cookie cutter life or been dealt an easy hand. My own journey of motherhood isn't typical - often not relatable - and so it feels like a holiday with an asterisk. As I toted a small child around today I was told "Oh! Happy Mother's Day!" like it is a surprise to see me with a kid or "Well Happy Mothers day to you too now" as if I was not very pregnant at Mother's Day last year. Some don't know the history, our story, the hurt, and some just don't realize that what they say cuts a little bit more on a day like today. But also, so so many have reached out to say "Happy Mother's Day" or "Thinking of your sweet boy that made you a mama" and those words make me weapy. What a blessing that we have friends who do remember. Who know that it means so much to me to hear Jack's name and who also remember how cute and tiny and tough he was and how much we loved him. To have friends that realize even though our day today was planned around a tiny human's nap and snack schedule, it looks absolutely nothing like I thought it would if you had asked me last year.  

Motherhood for me looks like back aches because I am not used to carrying around a heavy toddler. It looks like hard nights when I sob to Ike that I just want to be a mom again already. It looks like wondering "what do I wear to go pick up a toddler I've never met at midnight?" and then thinking "why am I thinking that?" For a while, it looked like ultrasound after ultrasound with little encouraging news. And then a while later, many nights of being truly fearful of waking up in the night because of the shear terror of  replaying the agonizing last minutes with Jack. Sometimes motherhood is wrangling the dog out the door away from the toddler all while not breaking the 3 chicken eggs I just gathered from the coop. It is occasionally allowing yourself to peruse the children's clothing section and grab a few things you don't really 'need' right now.  It is often now remembering what it felt like to hold our sweet boy in the NICU. The last 1.5 weeks it has been a whole lot of trial and error with a toddler that is totally new to us. 

Motherhood is a lot of things. And none of them are easy. But the people I find myself desiring to emulate most are often those that don't shy away from tough stuff. And often the ones that walk straight into the crossfire, God refines and shapes and grows them far beyond what they originally imagined or desired. The image of heating up metal to be refined comes to mind - being worked into a new and beautiful creation. That is the pain and joy of motherhood. 

Happy Mother's Day to all those who have mothered babies on this Earth and in heaven, babies they didn't carry in their womb but they physically carry now, and babies they have yet to concieve. 

Plant Shopping - the most mother's day thing to do. 




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Day 32 - How grief changed me

 I obviously missed quite a few days - I took about 2 weeks off - turns out blogging about heavy stuff is draining and I probably bit off more than I could chew by aiming to do 35 posts.  I have been reflecting on how grief has changed me over the last two years.  In many ways, I am not the same person I was when 2021 began. Grief has changed my thought life, my friendships, my work.  First - My world got tiny. I often felt myself looking inward (at my usually crappy situation) and feeling a lot of pity, sadness, anger and occasional shame. In those seasons, it’s so hard for me to be an engaged friend. Essentially grief has made me selfish. When you are going through so much stuff, you don’t have capacity to extend yourself to be there for your people. There’s nothing wrong with that - that’s the reality of grief: other people are checking on you for a long time - for good reason. But that’s hard for me- I wasn’t built to be needy, to mope or even be able to answer “...

Day 19 - Joy in the In Between

That phrase makes me roll my eyes sometimes. Joy in the in between. It feels like a quick way to brush off the troubles you are living amidst and force yourself to just "be happy" instead.  But, I think I am missing some of the sentiment of the phrase when I let my jaded heart get in the way.  When I look back at pictures from the days between Jack's second surgery and when his soul left this earth, I do see joy. I see the faces of my family members who came to see him for the first time. Like my grandparents meeting their first great grandchild. My friends coming to swoon over him even with all of his tubes and unable to hold him. I see photos of us with Jack, holding his hand, enjoying every moment we had with him knowing it was a gift, a miracle.  There was pain and sorrow during those days, of course. But essentially joy in the in between is life. We are living right now in the "not yet." We live among pain and sorrow daily (often not as grave in severity...

Books for the Grieving

We received books on grief from lots of different people who have walked through different types of grief, loss, or suffering. I wanted to share the ones I have read (some I finished, some I did not) and which I love.  And hopefully in sharing these, if you are grieving the loss of a child or know someone who is, here is a resource for you.   A Grief Observed by CS Lewis - a book for all seasons of grief, a book that I will probably return to again and again.  Holding onto Hope by Nancy Guthrie - this book spoke directly to my heart because it’s about child loss. And it walks through the story of Job. I could probably read this every 6 months and it would speak to my heart in a new way each time. Lament for a Son by Nicholas Wolterstorff - its short and concise, a love letter in some moments and a stream of thoughts on death and grief after the author's adult son dies hiking/climbing.  We actually read this in Uganda for an Apprenticeship assignment and I rer...