I looked on helplessly as my 22-month old tore each and every book and DVD off the shelf and threw them to the floor, too tired and nauseous to rise from my place on the couch to intervene. Then I looked down at my rapidly expanding belly and I thought, we must be crazy!
I am all for babies and children and large families, but right now I am having a moment where I completely understand why some people just want one. Or maybe two, a boy and a girl would be nice. I love being a mom, but it is really hard! And come October, I'll be a mom of not just one, but two!
We must be crazy!
We must be crazy!
The last two months of morning sickness (who made up that name anyway? What a misnomer. More like all day, all night sickness.) and extreme fatigue have left me feeling like motherhood is a thankless job that demands all and gives nothing back. I've sacrificed my usual alone time during Johnny's nap to nap myself. Not having that time for self care or creative expression is beginning to take its toll. I'm crabby, mad at my husband for all the time he gets to spend with grown-ups at work, impatient with Johnny when he's just being a toddler, and overall feeling maxed out.
Remind me why I am doing this again?
It's easy to say that all the sweet moments make up for all the hard ones. All the good cuddles, and and sweet sloppy kisses, and first steps and first words make all this hard work worth it. As awesome as all those things are, they're also kind of superficial. I think being a mother has to mean more than that.
I've been reading Everyday Sacrament: The Messy Grace of Parenting
by fellow blogger Laura Kelly Fanucci, and apart from it being packed with beautiful word of wisdom, every time I open it up I feel like someone is saying to me, "I know how you feel, and it's ok." And then I feel like someone is saying, "this is holy work we are doing. It's hard, but it's holy."
I am learning more about Christ and becoming more like Him because I am a mother. I knew this in a head knowledge kind of way. But it didn't really strike my heart until I read this the other night:
When I feel like I have nothing more to give, all of sudden my giving feels like it has some purpose. Being a mother is making me more like Christ. I can feel the wood of the cross. I can appreciate His life poured out to give me life.
It's easy to say that all the sweet moments make up for all the hard ones. All the good cuddles, and and sweet sloppy kisses, and first steps and first words make all this hard work worth it. As awesome as all those things are, they're also kind of superficial. I think being a mother has to mean more than that.
I've been reading Everyday Sacrament: The Messy Grace of Parenting
by fellow blogger Laura Kelly Fanucci, and apart from it being packed with beautiful word of wisdom, every time I open it up I feel like someone is saying to me, "I know how you feel, and it's ok." And then I feel like someone is saying, "this is holy work we are doing. It's hard, but it's holy."
I am learning more about Christ and becoming more like Him because I am a mother. I knew this in a head knowledge kind of way. But it didn't really strike my heart until I read this the other night:
You are a whisper of a whirl curled up deep in my belly. The hormonal soup
in which you swim makes me nauseous at all hours of the day. I choke down
crackers when I wake, throw up in the sink before breakfast, and pull over at
gas stations to get sick on the drive to work. I collapse on the couch before
sunset most evenings, too tired to drag myself to bed.
I am three months. pregnant. This is my body, given for you.
When I feel like I have nothing more to give, all of sudden my giving feels like it has some purpose. Being a mother is making me more like Christ. I can feel the wood of the cross. I can appreciate His life poured out to give me life.
Apart from the ways I am being made holier through motherhood, being a mother is worth it because of children themselves. Children have intrinsic value because they, like all of us, are created in the image and likeness of God. Even though they may make my life harder, and put a damper on some fun I might otherwise be having, children matter. My cousin Bethany wrote a great post on this very subject and I went back and read it again this week, because, well, I needed it.
Then, on top of all of this, there's this amazing thing of being allowed to participate in the miracle of creation. When I really stop and consider what's going on inside of me it just seems crazy. A person is growing inside me. It's so weird and mysterious and divine.
So maybe we are a little bit crazy, but at least I know why I am doing this. That's what makes it all worth it.
So maybe we are a little bit crazy, but at least I know why I am doing this. That's what makes it all worth it.
