The cartoon on my day calendar a few years ago summed it up pretty well. A new mother stood in front of the CEO's desk at “Motherhood, Inc.” listening to her job description. The employer stated, “You will work a 24-hour shift daily, to include weekends. No breaks allowed. You get one vacation day a year…it’s called Mother’s Day, but you still have to work.”
There’s nothing like the honest truth to give you a good laugh. I’ve learned a lot about motherhood in the past 3+ years (exponentially more than I had in the 20+ years prior!), and while I'm no expert, I know there's still a lot more to it than is contained in that simple cartoon. I’ve learned that you are a mother long before you hold your child in your arms. From the moment you see that plus sign (or the actual word ‘pregnant’ if you don’t believe that the plus sign is dark enough and you make your husband go get the expensive kind), you’re a mom. From the first few exhausting moments of denial or excitement, or sometimes both combined, you have left the calm shore of so-called freedom and entered the scary and tumultuous and amazingly wonderful sea of motherhood. You’re a mom when the nausea and smell aversions hit you, when they turn into cravings for a dill pickle (or two!) a day despite your reluctance to perpetuate the old wives’ tale. You’re a mother when you wake up to an empty and retching stomach at 2 am and unenthusiastically reach for the strawberry granola bar that you were supposed to eat at 6am. And then lie awake for two more hours. You’re a mom as you schedule that first doctor’s appointment with quiet anticipation, then count the seconds until the next one. You’re a mom whether you get to hear that blessed heart beating in the first weeks of new life, or whether you stand helplessly by as the precious life within you slips away, and you will it to be a mistake, plead with God to somehow undo it, would trade yourself, your life, to have your baby’s life back. You’re a mom when you witness the first amazing movements in black and white on the screen, when you feel the first flutters of your child moving within the safety of your womb. You’re a mother when you embarrass your husband by walking up to perfect strangers in the mall without pause and asking how they like that brand of stroller that you’ve been researching like a madwoman. You’re a mom as you pour over reviews of the best safety gear, the protective mama bear in you having been unleashed with a fury that won’t cease for the next 18…20..30 years. You’re a mom when the worst pain of your life becomes the best ordeal you’ve ever been through once you glimpse that beautiful, precious, perfect face for the first time, the one that has been miraculously created and contains half of you. You’re a mom when you realize that no all-nighter you’ve ever pulled at school could ever compare to the utter exhaustion you feel now, but no all-nighter has ever been worth what you have now. You’re a mother when you know you need a nap but can’t help staring at your new baby instead, when you swear on your life that your baby is by far the cutest child who has ever graced the face of the earth (even though looking back at pictures you were maybe just biased, because your child is obviously way cuter now). You’re a mother when you wipe away spit-up, poop, drool, and boogers without a thought, when you drag yourself out of bed for a fifth time in the middle of the night to change sheets and give baths because the evil stomach bug has descended upon your house. You’re a mom when your hugs and kisses magically make boo-boos disappear, and when your heart breaks as you watch them wave goodbye to you through the window, wishing more than anything that you could stay with them instead of going to the job you don’t want. You’re a mom when you hear yourself asking like a broken record where the time has gone, when did they get so big?! You’re a mom when you know how far from perfect you are, when you wish that you yelled less and hugged more, and pray that your kids turn out okay despite it all. You’re a mother when you seek out the experienced moms who surely know the magic secrets to establishing sleep schedules and mastering potty training because their kids are little angels while yours are throwing tantrums. You’re a mom when you figure out how you can save up for that Disneyworld vacation one day instead of that cruise to the Greek isles (but maybe we could do both?!). And you are truly a mother when you at long, long last FINALLY realize how much you owe your own mother.
I clearly owe my mother my life. We all do. She selflessly chose me over the nausea and crowded intestines and sleepless nights. But I am beyond fortunate that what I owe my mother does not stop there. I owe my mother the love, nurturing, and unwavering support that has completely saved me from crashing and burning in life. I owe her the long drives to the gym on weekdays and weekends alike, the hours spent waiting for the gymnastics meets to end. I owe her the unconditional love of those treacherous tween years when I told her through signs to stay out of my room and avoided her existence…but deep down needed her more than ever. I owe her the patience of endless trips as my personal shopper, my chauffer to sleepovers and dates, my stylist for homecoming and prom. I owe her for the care packages and heartfelt notes that sustained me as I set off on my own into the great unknown, and the title of Wedding Planner as she stayed up all night getting carpal tunnel from tying hundreds of wee little party favor ribbons. I owe her for the quiet example of how to be the wife my loving husband deserves, for unlimited access to Mom-star when I’m driving, Dial-a-recipe when I’m cooking, therapist when I need to vent, and birth coach when it’s time to give her a grandbaby. I owe her for my love of writing, faith, and Italian food. I owe her for being there in person to give the love that only a mother can give as I grieved our lost child, and for the phone calls from the ER at 3am that sustained me as she prayed me through another loss. I owe her for the example I continue to learn from as she loses days of sleep on end to help a friend in need, or, these days, shuttle back and forth to visit and care for her own ailing mother. In fact, the life lessons that I owe my mother are so numerous that I can never begin to repay what I owe. I can only hope an inadequate “I love you” somehow expresses my gratitude. And, of course, my plea for continued guidance in the years to come!
It’s true, the gift of motherhood is never-ending work. But it’s also a never-ending reward. So, this year on Mother’s day, I thank God for allowing me to be the mother of the children in our care and in His care, for the gift of my own mother, and for all the mothers who have forever touched my life!
My little gift at 15 weeks!
No comments:
Post a Comment