Tomorrow will be the second Mother's Day that I've celebrated as a mother. Last year I was pregnant, but I'm going to count it. As I was reflecting on what it's been like, entering motherhood, so many swirling thoughts percolate.
Entering motherhood is such a unique experience for everyone. Whether it be infertility, subfertility, adoption, unexpected pregnancy, etc. it seems that every woman I know had such unique and personal experiences with it. Mine was certainly unique for me. We tried for 1 1/2 years to get pregnant. While that's not a huge amount of time compared to what many parents go through, it was difficult for us. I remember my sister getting pregnant for the second time before I had even had my first baby and I was happy for her, but also annoyed. I thought about it constantly. We talked about it constantly. I was obsessed with the fact that I wasn't pregnant when I thought I should be. One day at a family Christmas party my cousin asked when we were going to have a baby, and I made some lame joke about it but also had to choke back tears. (Advice: DO NOT ask people about children. EVER. PERIOD. End of story.)
And then... one day... Pregnant! I discovered it in a very spiritual and sacred way. We were at the temple. During a moment when I was doing temple work I had the most intense impression that I was definitely pregnant. It brought tears to my eyes. I felt that my ancestors had aided this little spirit into coming to me, particularly my grandparents. I didn't believe it because I had hoped for over a year that I would be. But the feeling wouldn't go away. So we got home and I took a test. I almost didn't believe it because I had had a false positive once already. So I took three more. And got a blood test. Sure enough. Justin and I were stunned.
I remember feeling so anxious about what pregnancy would do to me and what it would be like to grow a tiny human inside my body. Looking back, I don't remember all the little things like the morning sickness or the hip pains and trouble sleeping and breathing. All I can think about now is how special and sacred it is to create life with no conscious effort. That as women, we literally become like Deities in our ability to create and produce life. It's unbelievably sacred. No wonder our Heavenly Father asks us to reserve this power to the confines of a healthy marriage.
As Richie grew inside me, I relished every movement (except when he kicked my hip ligaments really hard and made me hurt) as a sign that this child was an extension of myself, but more perfect and innocent.
As you become a parent everyone wants to share in your experience by dumping theirs on you. You hear the do's and the don'ts, the latest and greatest advice along with all the minute details of how the raise a super human, capable of being the world's greatest leader/thinker/entrepreneur/prodigy/etc. Additionally, you hear how to be an exceptional mother and everything everyone says conflicts with each other. Definitely co-sleep. Definitely do NOT co-sleep. Breastfeed in public openly. Cover up if you breastfeed. Formula feeding is just as great as breastfeeding. Formula feeding is terrible and evil. Blah, blah, blah. All the constant noise is just indicative of a desire of all mothers to not mess their children up, when in fact, every mother will somehow mess their child up. And in all this, no one accounts for the fact that every child comes with their own personality and agenda. All I wanted was a soft, cuddly baby who would breastfeed sweetly and sleep all day, awaken rosy cheeked and cuddly, and sleep some more. But instead, he came wiggly, super active, a terrible sleeper, and only put up with breastfeeding until he could move enough to unlatch and try to claw his way up my torso to who knows where.
Here's what I've decided about motherhood. You make your list of priorities and you rock it. I personally do not make it a priority to look good or take Richie on a billion outings to mold his mind from infancy. I do not care if he is dressed to the nines everyday. I do not care if he gets into the best pre-pre-school for toddlers. I don't really count on him going to Harvard, unless he wants to of course. I know some moms out there who have adorably dressed children, who take their kids all over town to give them education and culture. I know moms who are creative and throw Pinterest worthy parties. I know moms who run marathons with their kids. Good for them! But that's not me. And I don't need to be perfect at everything. So here are my priorities. Here's what I care about. I want him to know that we love Jesus Christ and that He loves Richie. I want him to eat a really healthy diet. I want him to feel loved and appreciated just for the fact that he is our baby. I want to teach him a love of the outdoors and especially of how it makes you feel good and stay happy. I want him to love and respect animal and human life, and to be kind and loving to all people and animals. I want him to care about his friends like his Dad cares about his friends and look out for them. There's more... but you get the gist.
Motherhood is amazing and awful all at the same time. There are moments when I just want to crawl in a hole and fade away. There are moments when I feel like my heart will burst. There are moments when I hide under the covers because it's 4 am and he's awake and maybe if I pretend like I don't hear those sad cries, they will stop, but they don't. There are moments when I want time to stand still so I can experience my heart overflowing with joy for that little sweet smile staring up at my face. There are moments when I feel trapped and lonely and like my fun, independent life is obliterated and hopeless. Then there are moments when I feel like I don't need to feel anything myself, because my heart only beats for our sweet child. These moments usually occur within the same 24 hours.
So looking back, and now looking forward, motherhood is a crazy journey. One that I have only just begun. My own experience as a mother has given me so much compassion for the billions of other women who have traveled this bumpy, unpredictable road. Especially compassion for my own mother, who did her best, messed us up a little, and continues to try to be an amazing mother.
So, to all the mothers... Mothers who are women who have given birth, adopted, cared for another human being or animal, or mothered other adults.... Happy Mother's Day. This little mama is grateful for your example, for your mistakes, and for your courage. Maybe with a little luck I won't mess my son up too much, and he will one day know the depth of my love for him.
Entering motherhood is such a unique experience for everyone. Whether it be infertility, subfertility, adoption, unexpected pregnancy, etc. it seems that every woman I know had such unique and personal experiences with it. Mine was certainly unique for me. We tried for 1 1/2 years to get pregnant. While that's not a huge amount of time compared to what many parents go through, it was difficult for us. I remember my sister getting pregnant for the second time before I had even had my first baby and I was happy for her, but also annoyed. I thought about it constantly. We talked about it constantly. I was obsessed with the fact that I wasn't pregnant when I thought I should be. One day at a family Christmas party my cousin asked when we were going to have a baby, and I made some lame joke about it but also had to choke back tears. (Advice: DO NOT ask people about children. EVER. PERIOD. End of story.)
And then... one day... Pregnant! I discovered it in a very spiritual and sacred way. We were at the temple. During a moment when I was doing temple work I had the most intense impression that I was definitely pregnant. It brought tears to my eyes. I felt that my ancestors had aided this little spirit into coming to me, particularly my grandparents. I didn't believe it because I had hoped for over a year that I would be. But the feeling wouldn't go away. So we got home and I took a test. I almost didn't believe it because I had had a false positive once already. So I took three more. And got a blood test. Sure enough. Justin and I were stunned.
I remember feeling so anxious about what pregnancy would do to me and what it would be like to grow a tiny human inside my body. Looking back, I don't remember all the little things like the morning sickness or the hip pains and trouble sleeping and breathing. All I can think about now is how special and sacred it is to create life with no conscious effort. That as women, we literally become like Deities in our ability to create and produce life. It's unbelievably sacred. No wonder our Heavenly Father asks us to reserve this power to the confines of a healthy marriage.
As Richie grew inside me, I relished every movement (except when he kicked my hip ligaments really hard and made me hurt) as a sign that this child was an extension of myself, but more perfect and innocent.
As you become a parent everyone wants to share in your experience by dumping theirs on you. You hear the do's and the don'ts, the latest and greatest advice along with all the minute details of how the raise a super human, capable of being the world's greatest leader/thinker/entrepreneur/prodigy/etc. Additionally, you hear how to be an exceptional mother and everything everyone says conflicts with each other. Definitely co-sleep. Definitely do NOT co-sleep. Breastfeed in public openly. Cover up if you breastfeed. Formula feeding is just as great as breastfeeding. Formula feeding is terrible and evil. Blah, blah, blah. All the constant noise is just indicative of a desire of all mothers to not mess their children up, when in fact, every mother will somehow mess their child up. And in all this, no one accounts for the fact that every child comes with their own personality and agenda. All I wanted was a soft, cuddly baby who would breastfeed sweetly and sleep all day, awaken rosy cheeked and cuddly, and sleep some more. But instead, he came wiggly, super active, a terrible sleeper, and only put up with breastfeeding until he could move enough to unlatch and try to claw his way up my torso to who knows where.
Here's what I've decided about motherhood. You make your list of priorities and you rock it. I personally do not make it a priority to look good or take Richie on a billion outings to mold his mind from infancy. I do not care if he is dressed to the nines everyday. I do not care if he gets into the best pre-pre-school for toddlers. I don't really count on him going to Harvard, unless he wants to of course. I know some moms out there who have adorably dressed children, who take their kids all over town to give them education and culture. I know moms who are creative and throw Pinterest worthy parties. I know moms who run marathons with their kids. Good for them! But that's not me. And I don't need to be perfect at everything. So here are my priorities. Here's what I care about. I want him to know that we love Jesus Christ and that He loves Richie. I want him to eat a really healthy diet. I want him to feel loved and appreciated just for the fact that he is our baby. I want to teach him a love of the outdoors and especially of how it makes you feel good and stay happy. I want him to love and respect animal and human life, and to be kind and loving to all people and animals. I want him to care about his friends like his Dad cares about his friends and look out for them. There's more... but you get the gist.
Motherhood is amazing and awful all at the same time. There are moments when I just want to crawl in a hole and fade away. There are moments when I feel like my heart will burst. There are moments when I hide under the covers because it's 4 am and he's awake and maybe if I pretend like I don't hear those sad cries, they will stop, but they don't. There are moments when I want time to stand still so I can experience my heart overflowing with joy for that little sweet smile staring up at my face. There are moments when I feel trapped and lonely and like my fun, independent life is obliterated and hopeless. Then there are moments when I feel like I don't need to feel anything myself, because my heart only beats for our sweet child. These moments usually occur within the same 24 hours.
So looking back, and now looking forward, motherhood is a crazy journey. One that I have only just begun. My own experience as a mother has given me so much compassion for the billions of other women who have traveled this bumpy, unpredictable road. Especially compassion for my own mother, who did her best, messed us up a little, and continues to try to be an amazing mother.
So, to all the mothers... Mothers who are women who have given birth, adopted, cared for another human being or animal, or mothered other adults.... Happy Mother's Day. This little mama is grateful for your example, for your mistakes, and for your courage. Maybe with a little luck I won't mess my son up too much, and he will one day know the depth of my love for him.
1 comment:
I really like this. It's a beautiful sentiment....You are doing great, Adrienne. He's got a wonderful mother (and father), he's going to be such a wonderful person.
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