Motherhood

My gram rocked it three times.  My mom rocked it twice. My sister is currently kicking some serious butt at it.  Many of my friends are new to it, but are learning to conquer.  My best friend will be entering the arena come October.  I have witnessed it in the making once and am often awed by all those who wake to it every day and do such an amazing job.  Motherhood.

I have always wanted to have children; there are times when I think about and research all of the things involved with going through the process. FYI: one round of IVF, which has about a 25% chance of success, costs over $10,000; adoption costs range all over the place, but being a single parent puts the odds decidedly not in my favor, a fact that would otherwise make me quite happy if I were entering an Hunger Games. I pray about it a lot, and I wonder if I would even be equipped to handle it alone if I did have the money to make it happen.  (For what it’s worth, I think I would be able to handle anything for the love of a child; it’s the going through the process that I’m afraid might make me crazy.)  I also wonder if perhaps there is a reason my womb has yet to produce.

When I wrote earlier that I am awed by motherhood, that may have been an understatement.  I listen to dear friends who are struggling every day to be the best mom possible, who think they are failing miserably, and who do not understand the absolute beauty and grace with which they shine even when they haven’t showered in two days or feel joyous upon getting out for adult conversation.  I hear the ache in their voices when they discuss how to discipline their children so they will become kind, respectful, helpful, humble, hopeful human beings who will bring light into the world.  My eyes fill up when their eyes do when they admit how much they feel like they are failing, and I want to tell them how truly awesome, in every sense of the word, they are.

I have not carried a child in my belly.  I haven’t had the joy of stretch marks and baby kicks and morning sickness.  I haven’t pushed a child into the world or suffered the searing pain of an episiotomy.  (I saw that, live and in person, and lemme tell you, the empathetic pain I felt made me cry out for my sister.  Once kids are old enough to know what that is, the Mother’s Day gifts should rise exponentially.)  There are times when I look at all these amazing women who are struggling through the pains and joys of motherhood every day and feel a bit jealous, but the majority of the time, my brain simply gapes in wonderment at how they do it.

Ironically, I received two Mother’s Day cards today.  One, a Beauty and the Beast musically-enhanced card, came from my current group of seniors.  I’m not quite sure why they went with this card, especially because they didn’t sign it yet.  I say yet because I was told that would be the card they would all sign the week of graduation.  This is not the first group of students to give me such a card; I have actually gotten cards in the past couple of years as well from some pretty sweet kids.  The second was from my one of my nieces, who I think was trying to send it on behalf of my pup.  This one was not only signed but filled with some of the loveliest words ever.  

As much as I may not understand the reason now, I think there is a reason I haven’t given birth to my own children.  Perhaps I do not have any of my own so I have more to give to others’ children.  Perhaps the Lord’s plan for me is never to have children of my own so I can be of service to those who do.  Or, perhaps He is giving me the opportunity to learn the ropes from some pretty amazing women.  If that is the case, I will have one of the most amazing support systems ever.

In Proverbs, it reads, “Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.” (31:28) Mommas, may you get all the praise you deserve from the blessings you’ve been given.