Since the first whiff of baby powder as a little girl, I knew. ABSOLUTELY knew. I wanted to be a mom. And out of all the professions or careers in the entire book of things you can do with your life, I knew, if given the chance, I'd be an amazing mom. When I taught 4th grade I questioned my abilities almost every stinking night, when I taught piano lessons I rolled my eyes at how awful I must be at it, when I book a photography session I flood myself with thoughts that I'm not good enough, when I led women's group I tried so hard to allow God to lead and me to step out of the way and let it be about Him and then I'd spend all my time debriefing to determine if I had gotten in the way which in a comical sense makes it all about me again. But motherhood? I've not questioned my abilities once. I'll say it out loud, I'm good at being a mom, it fits me well, but it isn't what I imagined it would be.
When I begged God to allow me to be called Mom, I had "Soccer Mom" bumper sticker on my mini van in mind, I imagined a clean home and dinner on the table, I mentally packed little lunch boxes and folded tiny Elmo undies. I dreamt of rocking moments, prom dress shopping, wedding planning, whispers at midnight, pouring over parenting books and begging God that I get it right. I knew it wasn't going to be easy and I wasn't naive enough to think it would be smooth sailing, I knew I was signing up for the hardest job in the world, one not everyone could do well. Reality is, I signed up for a very different picture, filled with endless battles that I had no idea existed for a mom.
When I stared into the eyes of that swaddled baby as we rocked back and forth, as I prayed intensely for them, I dreamed a different picture from what my reality today looks like. It's okay, I've learned to let my pictures burn over time, but still...motherhood is different.
I didn't know it would be 5 therapies a week times 3 children equaling the stunning number of 15. I had no idea there were terms that existed for when a child cowers at your love, when your love makes their heart so unsafe that they want to devour you, I had know idea I'd find myself diagnosed with PTSD due to the trauma of fighting to save the one your heart beats for. When I stared at my swaddled bundle I didn't realize I'd be finding day programs for my child to attend, so he can be loaded into a yellow bus, the small kind that we all know about, and be brought to little outings where people just kind of stare. I had no idea I was going to have to provide for my children longer than their college days, didn't know how much group homes were going to cost me, how hard I'd have to work to financially support my children long after my husband retires and long after we are in the grave...I was naive to that life. When I though about their first steps I had know idea the amount of sweat and effort and calloused knees I'd invest in order to watch them take a first step, a first bite, a first word, a pedal of a bike, a swallow of medicine, a returned hug. I didn't bank on the feelings that would flood me when handed a picture with the words "I love you" after I had been left spinning when hatred and anger had slapped me in the face minutes prior. My heart wasn't conditioned for this motherhood, there was no preparing me. When I begged God, pleaded that if it could at all be in His will for me to be known as mom...well I didn't realize know how incredible the pain would be at loving someone who refuses love, at begging God to allow me to keep one, at sitting across from specialists and being handed another label. I didn't know I was begging to trade therapy times for play dates, hippo therapy instead of mcdonalds playlands, isolation to gain health instead of bible studies and coffee. I had no idea IEP meetings would become my norm and I didn't want to know conflict as I learned to fight for my children's rights or drive hours a week to counseling, or push my child to change their story through therapies; when all I really wanted to do is watch their ballet recital or bring oranges to the soccer game.
I didn't realize that at the end of the day, I'd want to sit and stare at a wall, grieve the fact that my future most likely doesn't hold prom dress shopping, and Christmas at Grandma's house. There has been a lot of mourning over my past 11 years, too much. My brain has been conditioned to wake up and flinch each morning waiting for the next shoe to drop, past history has shown a pattern and I had no idea I'd be living this ritualistic rut called trauma. I had no idea that PTSD could rob a person of happiness and motivation to live well, I had no idea motherhood would bring me to this state when I asked, pleaded to be called mom.
I had no idea living motherhood could rock me to my core, play intense tug of war with my marriage, allow me to see satan face to face on almost a daily basis. I never knew motherhood would make me long for heaven where the first place I'd run is to my Savior's lap and I'd say with chin quivering "did you see that daddy?" And he'd whisper "I was watching."
It is everything I never wanted if we were going to be honest but in the exact same sentence it was everything I ever wanted, just not everything I dreamt it would be. It stings, it robs me of breath, it aggravates, and it is debilitating, this motherhood.
Motherhood has brought me to a wilderness, where I stay, where I reside. I've wondered if I'll ever get out of the wilderness and the control freak in me sometimes just needs to know; but God has me there for a reason, and as maddening as that is almost always, when I begged and pleaded to know motherhood He took my hand and gently walked me into the wilderness. And because of motherhood, I've known what it is to sit at the Savior's feet and hold up my children and say "Your's", motherhood has allowed me to crumble and break until all that is left is a Savior kneeling down and picking me up and rocking me back and forth whispering promises of some days in my ear. Motherhood has given me the sweet gift of the agony of suffering because we live in a fallen world and it has allowed me to see Christ show up so clearly and it has ushered me into the front row of His masterpiece in the making. Walking motherhood has opened my eyes to how wretching it is fight for someone who won't let you in...the picture of me and my Savior so often. Motherhood defines perseverance and gains perspective and savors moments that are normal for others but never ever taken for granted to me. Motherhood has left forever calloused knees, the way they should be, showing my weakness and recognizing His strength, declaring it is He who can and does and will do. It is through motherhood that I've learned what offering a broken hallelujah is. And it is because of motherhood that I have learned a fight that dwells so deeply in me leaving me on the prowl with a love so fierce and a commitment so rooted to do everything in my power to pursue my children to work until I bleed for them to never.ever.stop. Motherhood has changed me, rattled me, crumbled me, devastated me, broken me.
Yet, motherhood is the sweetest gift ever handed to me.
I get to stare at sleeping beings and smile at the good of each day, I get to tickle toes and rub noses, and get to be the magic maker when bubbles appear during bath time, I get to live miracles when she reads to me when I thought reading would perhaps come as a bonus someday, I get to be my kids biggest and loudest cheerleader when the little things become miracles, I get to simplify our life bringing it down to what is really important and then seeking to accomplish those simple importances each day, I get to lay in bed snuggling my hurting and quietly take in the breathing as the body falls limp to sleep and I enter the privedlege of praying Jesus in and Jesus out with each inhale and exhale whispering the sweet lessons I ache to say during the awake moments. And I get to petition to our Father on their behalf, and I get to go to bed at night with aching feet and throbbing heart and know that I am right where I've begged God to be, in His plan which maybe doesn't FEEL peaceful and steady, but IS peaceful and exactly where I want to be in this journey called Motherhood.
