A Dream Fulfilled

I always wanted to be a mother.  It was a dream of mine and its fulfillment has been everything and nothing that I expected.  These two precious girls have been everything my young pre-teen self thought; dressing them up in fancy dresses and adorable bows.  Piece of cake.  The joy of snuggling a newborn and clapping for those first unbalanced steps.  Wonderful and expected.  Hearing someone say, "My word they are cute," and me beaming and practically screaming, "THANKS," is something I couldn't wait to happen.  And when it did, my heart was full- as I knew it would be.

BUT, most of that is surface wonderfulness and I was so ill-prepared for the other aspects of this journey.  One surprise, has been the pain that comes along with parenthood. I assumed it only went as deep as physical exhaustion or lack of sleep. 

The pain of self reflection.  Oh that woman in Wal Mart desperately fumbling with the Goldfish package that she got off the shelf- what is wrong with her?  That would never be me with the shopping cart criers, right?  I was sure that I wouldn't snap at my kids and say things that I immediately wanted to take back.  I didn't expect to lay in bed some nights going over and over conversations or cringing at the looks I had given that day and weep. Not me.  Maybe moms that hadn't wanted this their whole lives.  Maybe people that were surprised with this motherhood gig, but not ME.  I was born for this.  I wouldn't hurt my kids' feelings or yell to the top of my lungs, right?   I'm supposed to be pruning them for greatness. There is no need for constant changes within myself, is there? One of us has to have this all together.  Oh how I've learned that this is the best job to constantly be examining my actions, motives, character, etc. 

The pain of love.  I was completely unprepared for a love that hurt.  A love that, at times, makes me sick to my stomach. An instinct of protection that wells forth from a place that I can't even identify.  A love that so vigorously has entwined itself throughout me, that I cannot remember not being Amelia and Elise's mother.  I love every strand of golden blonde hair and the scrunch nose smiles melt me to my core.  The Father loves them more than this?  More than this overwhelming love that I feel?  What a wonderful reminder that the enormity of his love cannot be measured. 

Of course with these pains, there are unspeakable joys.  Moments that are hard to pinpoint.  Moments I never expected to matter to the magnitude that they do.  Tiny details that I never expected to mean so much to a mother.  One day that chubby toddler foot with little toes that grip for balance, turns into the foot of a pre-schooler- long and slender and running confidently ever further from my reach.  Moments like this are embedded in my brain.

There is a part of me that had barely stopped thinking about the school shootings in Connecticut every day and then a tornado in Oklahoma (we know my history here) wipes out two elementary schools.  I was devastated and frozen and clinging to stories of hope for rescues.  And like many others I watched helplessly as some kids didn't come out.  I envisioned the horror of running to the school and looking for your baby. I wept and wondered and was angry and upset.  And then, I had to turn it off.  I had to pray, but not dwell.  I made a decision to move on.  We are selfish and sinful and so these types of things will continue to happen.  No matter how much I look for a reason or what Biblical story I seek out for comfort, the outcome is the same.  We live in a fallen world.  Disasters happen and tragedy strikes and while that might seem like a no-brainer for most, it is something that has haunted me my whole life.

And while I desperately pray a tragedy does not hit close to home for me, I am aware that it could.  So I continue to cling to these girls and our reading time and snuggle time and art time.  I watch as they triumphantly work out a disagreement over that one special doll.  I count my many blessings and name them one by one- over and over.  I am not perfect at this, but I am getting better.  I think we are hesitant to proclaim when we have improved or conquered.  We don't want someone to think we are tooting our own horn and we don't want to be vulnerable enough to get knocked on our rear.  But, I will say it.  As I have seen horrible tragedies unfold during these months, I have gotten better at living in the moment.  Better at being present.  And it has inspired me to keep improving.  I'm still grossly human, but I'm loving the feeling of knowing my list of regrets keeps shrinking. 

Being a mom is everything and nothing that I expected.  What a complex and marvelous journey.