Some Thoughts on Mothers

I was thinking this morning how this corner of the blogging community that I "hang out in" has a disproportionately large number of young mamas like myself in it. I think it's because we need this community. It feeds us, helps us feel less alone and gives us positive feedback we don't necessarily get on a daily basis in our "real" life. Being a mother of little guys is a job we are not paid for or really even acknowledged for....ever! And if there is acknowledgement it is often when those kids have kids themselves and realize how hard we worked.

Being a young mother is HARD. If you are or have ever been a mother of little ones, you know the word "hard" just doesn't cover it. Being a mother is also RICH. If you are or have ever been a mother of little ones, you know that "rich" just doesn't cover it. It's a blend of HARD and RICH, with some seasons that are more hard than others, while other periods are more rich than others. The rich makes up for the hard, don't you think? But does that make the difficult parts any less difficult? Nope.

I remember the first couple months of being a mother as a sort of scary, magical, wonderful, terrible BLUR. When Emily was only about a month old 9/11 happened and there were a few hours there where I thought the world as we knew it might end. The feeling of vulnerability was staggering. I sat there nursing my itty-bitty while planes crashed into sky scrapers and wondered if another was headed our way. An entire human being was dependent upon me for sustenance and life. This was a new feeling that both terrified me and brought to life an entirely new person I didn't know was inside me.

I remember a feeling of pride as a new mother. The good kind. I had carried, given birth to and was keeping alive this new and beautiful baby. Caring for Emily called forth strength I didn't know I had. It pulled an unselfishness from me that I didn't know I was capable of. I was carried on the tide of motherhood to a place I could never have journeyed of my own accord. This was a place where my own needs were always considered second and sometimes third. This was a place where I just did things (waking up in the night, breastfeeding, keeping her comfortable and on a routine) that had nothing to do with my needs or desires. I probably thought I was a generous person prior to my daughter's birth. But her coming shone a big, bright light on just how me-centered I had been up to that point. But it's not as if, at her birth, I suddenly summoned enough will-power or determination to become this new, better person...No! Emily called it out of me. She demanded it. She needed it. She couldn't live without it.

And as that new me was born, that old me....well, died. The part of me that only thought of my own needs and occasionally, if I so chose, those of my husband, family and friends. My life stopped going the way I planned it to. The time that I wake and the time I go to sleep stopped being determined by me. The amount of uninterrupted "me" time became completely unpredictable from one day to the next. Even my brain was taken over....was I producing enough milk and was Emily getting enough...when did she eat last and when should I lay her down to sleep....was a video while I shoveled food into her distracted mouth going to kill her sweet little brain cells....was she crying because of a tooth coming in or an ear infection... And that was just the first year. Now she walks across the street to her school, brings home homework, asks where babies come from and fights with her siblings. I have a different brain than I had 6 years ago. And God knows I have a different body than I had 6 years ago!

The new me is better than the old me, no doubt. Not as rested, a little grumpier and not as skinny, but overall, better. But does that make being this person pleasant or fun? Sometimes. Not usually. But do I ever in a million years want to be that old me who did whatever the hell I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it? Unequivocally, no. Absolutely not. This me is kinder, more accepting, more empathetic and more creative. I love this me and this life.

That does not negate the difficulty of this new me and this new life. Life as a mother is rich but it is so very, very hard. And those of us who have been there and done that know that being a mom of a child under two is a gauntlet of sorts. Babies under two require so much physical and emotional labor and can not be reasoned with or asked to suspend their needs. If you don't remember or haven't yet experienced what life is like with a child under two, there is no way to explain the challenge that it is!

Here's a Bible verse my friend, Jennifer Pafford reminded me of a couple weeks ago, in an effort to encourage me (and it did):

Jeremiah 40:11

Like a shepherd He will tend His flock,

In His arm He will gather the lambs,

And carry them in His bosom;

He will gently lead the nursing ewes.

That image of God physically helping and caring for my kids while gently leading me, the mother, has been comforting me lately. This is a God that "gets" what it's like to be a mother and "gently leads me." He doesn't just say, "Oh honey...all moms have days like that." He physcially carries my babies for me. Oh I don't mean literally, of course. I wish. I think the Bible's reference to "the body of Christ" and "being Christ's hands and feet" mean those who aren't moms and dads of itty-bitties can and should physically BE God in young mothers' lives or in anyone's life, for that matter. I don't want to forget that when my youngest passes that 2-year mark and becomes more independent. Moms of itty-bitties need help. Physical help. They need us to come along and "carry" their babies for a bit so that they can rest or just freaking use the bathroom alone! They are sleep-deprived, over-extended, tired human beings who need help. I am determined to not forget how it feels to be me at this time of my life so that when the time comes, I can offer that support and help to other young mamas.

And I guess what I'm saying is that this "blogging community" is that for me some days. You girls "gently lead me." I feel a companionship with you. I feel like my day is a little brighter because of you. I am challenged to make something to show you. And then I get to hear you tell me how pretty, clever or creative that "something" is. So thank you. And maybe this week we can all make a point of encouraging and being extra kind to those in this little community who we know are Mamas to itty-bitties.