Delighting in motherhood

I distinctly remember being asked, sometime when E was almost five months old, "Don't you just love being a mom?" My eyes welled up involuntarily. I paused to compose myself, then forced a smile and said, "I love her." And then I quickly changed the subject. At the time, and for much of the last year, no, no I haven't loved being a mom. My thoughts were largely occupied with how hard it was to learn so many new things, be good at none of them, have everything change constantly, lose all sense of my identity, and feel guilty for all of it.

But this past week I realized that something had changed. More importantly, I had changed. I still am learning all sorts of new things, still am not very good at most of them, everything is still changing, and my identity is still in flux. But now I am loving it.

God has given me the great grace to enjoy motherhood. I look at my baby girl, at her adorable toothy grin and crazy reddish hair, and I delight in being her mom. She charms everyone we meet, which is terrifying for an introvert like myself, because I suddenly find myself having conversations with everyone. No longer can I skate through life under the radar, avoiding human contact--she smiles all the time and draws every passerby into her little sphere of cuteness (today at the DMV, we had the whole bench laughing at her). At the same time, I love showing her off. I am so proud of her friendliness, curiosity, and expressiveness. I love watching her try new foods, discover new toys, meet new milestones. I love holding her tight and having her pat my arm and snuggle into my shoulder.

I know there will be many other times throughout her life when being a mom does not feel like one of life's greatest blessings. But today it does. And I know that it is a gift from God. And I am so grateful.

Life worth living

I had started writing a post about how desperately I want the sleep situation in our house to resume some semblance of normalcy. I've been sleeping in the nursery for a few months now, trying to let my husband get some sleep and make it easier for me to nurse in the middle of the night (occasionally we'll switch spots when I'm working a few days in a row so that I can get a bit more sleep and he can do some feeds). Baby girl is a horrible napper and has taken to getting up in between feeds at night to play. And the best sleep I've gotten in weeks is either in the call room at work, or in my parents' bed while my mom watches her. Most days I feel like it will never end. If I'm honest, I've been feeling pretty sorry for myself.

Then I read this article, shared by Jenny over at Mama Needs Coffee (you should subscribe if you don't already). And it broke my heart. I kept waiting for the author to say "But then I realized that my son is beautiful and perfect and his life is worth living," but she never did. As a fairly new mom, and someone who takes care of these kids with a "terminal disease", I had to close the window before I finished reading. It made me physically sick. How anyone could think that loving someone who is suffering means trying to eliminate their very life is beyond my comprehension. It's taking our modern society's aversion to suffering to a whole new level. A sickening, despairing level.

And then this morning Jenny shared this, which sure seemed like a direct response, though it may not have been. Someone with a terminal disease choosing to celebrate her life. The same life some people might want to eliminate, for her own sake. I wanted to rub it in the first author's face. How dare you decide that your son's joys and triumphs and growth will automatically be outweighed by his suffering. But more than that, I rejoiced because there were more than malice and indignation in the response (she's a bigger person than I). There was true delight in life. She lists many things in her life that make the suffering worthwhile: "That I'm breathing...learning to knit...tickling babies...Christmas shopping...The Wizard of Oz...Elizabeth Bennet...fish and chips..." and so on.

My heart lifted as I read her list. Yes. Yes to all of it. I thought about my own preoccupation with the four month sleep regression and my fatigue, and I made my own list.

Baby giggles.

Goat cheese.

Not wearing socks in November.

My pillow.

Game-winning field goals.

Being there for a friend.

Drinking wine on the couch with my husband.

A really good massage.

Laughing until you cry. 

I mean, the list is literally endless. The number of good things in my life is un-countable. Even the list of good things born of my suffering is un-countable. Ask any mother who has gone through child birth (the author above notwithstanding).

So with some perspective tucked under my belt, do I still long for the day when I can sleep in my own bed and my daughter will sleep (even mostly) through the night? Of course. But would I trade those gummy smiles because it's hard? Not for a second. Suffering is not the worst thing in this world. And even if it were, it does not have the final word.

Today, I choose gratitude. I choose life. I choose love.

A year to live

What would top your Bucket List if you had a year to live?

This was the topic of our conversation at dinner last week. Not because any of us are dying (well, we’re all dying), but it came up while discussing the book I just finished, “Being Mortal” by surgeon Atul Gawande. The book discusses, among other things, how priorities changed for people depending on how much time they thought they had left.

Those who thought they were near the end focused more on family, friends, and comfort, while those with their entire lives in front of them were more likely to explore new connections, pursue long-term achievements, and ignore their family.

I was encouraged to think that I wouldn’t be doing things a whole lot differently than I am now. The main thing is I would push forward some trips that have been in planning for a while. I would return to Kansas City to visit friends, I would embark on one last big adventure (Long’s Peak, el Camino, the Incan trail, etc), and I would keep doing what I’m doing. Working at a job I love, playing sports, being with family, volunteering with camp, enjoying creation.

I will admit that in the little things, I could do a much better job of making the most of each day. After all, no one wants to think back in their final moments about how much time they wasted surfing the internet or doing Sudoku. So perhaps one of my resolutions in the new year could be to spend less time on things I might regret and more time on things that make my life more full.

Life to the full. That should be on everyone's Bucket List.