Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to everyone! Here's something I wrote to celebrate being a mother. I'm so grateful for our three little children.

  I thought I knew what motherhood meant. It meant holding my newborn through the night, smiling at his oh-so-awake eyes, wondering at his perfect fingers and toes. It meant cleaning up baby food from the floor, jumping up and down to make my baby laugh, snuggling in the chair at the end of the day.

 I thought I knew what motherhood meant. It meant bending over pregnant to change a diaper. It meant waking up in the middle of the night, to go to the bathroom, to stop my son’s crying. It meant tired beyond tired, happy beyond happy. It meant two little boys, each with two laughing eyes. It meant watching them toddle, laugh, and scream. It meant seeing them splash in mud puddles under a clear sky. It meant tip-toeing into their room at night, reaching into two cribs, caressing their hair.

 I thought I knew what motherhood meant. It meant trying with all my might to fit two boys, myself and my pregnant stomach on one chair to read stories. It meant running awkwardly after four quick and happy feet. It meant teaching songs, letters, and words. It meant laughing at the naughty smiles, hand on my stomach. It meant movement, life.

 I thought I knew what motherhood meant. And then it all became a blur. A 41 week ultrasound, two doctors, two nurses, and no heartbeat. It meant hope against hope—and then pain against pain. It meant kissing a small and perfect face—and then letting go. It meant standing, cold, empty, in a cemetery. Placing a flower on a tiny grave. It meant wishing I could have only seen her eyes.

 I understand a little better now. Motherhood means faith. It means deep deep hurt, but it also means deep deep joy. Love in the face of the unexpected. Changing dreams, not diapers. It means partnership with God above. Hope, healing. Jumping heart first into the future.

 It means someday I will look into her eyes.