Motherhood, an Afterthought

Afterthough = An idea, response, or explanation that occurs to one after an event or decision.

Were you, like my amazing mother, a little girl who dreamed of motherhood? When people asked what you wanted to be when you grew up, did you picture baby blankets and soft cuddles, a precious little one in your arms? If that was you, I thank God for you, for your natural patience and nurturing spirit, your self-sacrificing and merciful tendencies. I know you face your own unique challenges in motherhood, the struggle with contentment and a nagging feeling that things are not as perfect as you dreamed they would be.

I am from a different camp. At 5, I wanted to be a veterinarian, then a doctor, a professional tennis player, a literature professor, an interpreter, a travel writer, a farmer. You get the idea. I had a lot of dreams and aspirations but none of them involved strollers, play dates, or planning the perfect toddler party. There are strengths accompanying career ambitions - I excelled in school, in athletics. I was a goal-setter, driven, ambitious, busy with pursuit. As with all things, strengths hold hands with certain weaknesses of character. In my case, selfishness, pride, judgment, harshness, a critical spirit.

Motherhood was an afterthought for me. It wasn't something I excluded from my future, but I never gave it much space. Now, as mother of an almost 2 year old, when days are long and filled with a particularly whiny voice, I ask, "Why is this so hard?" I scold myself for getting frustrated and exhausted so easily, for yelling at my son for making everything harder to accomplish, for wanting to give up over the most ridiculous things - spilled beverages or poop on the floor (ok, poop on the floor is serious, not ridiculous). In those moments I think, "Maybe this would be easier if I had dreamed of motherhood?"

I have only lived my experience, but having talked to other young mothers it seems no matter how prepared or excited you were at the start of the journey - even if you had dreamed of it from youth - motherhood is hard . . .

. . . and equally wonderful. A friend of mine from church (Harvest Bible Chapel, if you were wondering) with three kids reassured me during my pregnancy. We had been discussing our general disinterest in children (don't judge) and she said, "Laura, God will give you a special love for the children He gives you." Completely true for me. Only divine grace could explain the gift of love I feel for my son.

The sun was streaming through the window, dust particles swaying down invisible streams. Music playing. Caleb and I were "dancing," which means flinging our arms out, throwing our heads back and spinning in circles. I caught his eye mid-turn and he giggled. My heart expanded and I caught my breath, tears clouded my eyes. I turned away so he wouldn't see me crying over the wonderful.