Defining Motherhood: a guest post by Sarah

Sarah at For The Love is just about the most stylish mother you will ever see.  I love her blog for so many reasons (her frugal fashion is amazing and her party-styling delightful), but one aspect I especially love is her obvious adoration for her son. I am so excited that she agreed to share her passion for him and the joy that she feels as his Mother--and soon for a sweet baby girl on the way!

When it comes to talking about motherhood, I seem to be at a loss for words. It's not as much a loss for words really, as it is not knowing how to put so many strong feelings into words. I guess the best place to start is at the beginning. I find it to be an incredible concept that someone as average and ordinary as me would be trusted with God's sweet, and innocent human beings.

I remember talking to my E while in the womb and saying things like "are you sure you want to make your way into this scary, scary, world?" I distinctly remember worrying about the many ways I personally could screw up this sweet, sweet, child  and wondering how I was ever going to be able to live up to the responsibility of raising a successful adult human being amongst such a complex and fast paced world. There would be daily difficulties and so many ever changing outside poisons that I knew would be impossible for me to protect him from and help him avoid. It seems that for me the title of Mother immediately follows itself with a significant feeling of inadequacy.

In the first couple years of E's life, I learned that self forgiveness is a beautiful thing. I love being a mother with all my heart, to the point that I nearly choke up every time I talk about the subject, because it's just that precious to me. Even so, I have still spent a vast amount of time worrying about how I rate as a mom. Worrying about my responsibility to help shape this little one into the kind of person I think he should become. Somewhere along the way I believe I learned something profound. At least it was a profound discovery for me. I had spent so much time worrying about my ability to shape this little boy into eventually a good man, that I neglected to realize something. More recently it dawned on me, that he has been shaping me.

I've learned so much about myself and the person I want to become through my daily interactions with this little human being who wasn't even a part of my life just 2 years ago. He's taught me how to love more fully than I ever have, he's helped me find happiness more fully than I've ever found, and he's helped me find patience and strength that I never thought I could muster.

Sometimes when I obsess over the way I should discipline, or when and where I should send him to time out, I realize that I'm learning how to practice self discipline, and self control. So it seems that if I focus a little less on how much I can teach him, shape him, mold him, and a little more on what he has already taught me, I feel a sense of equality between us. It helps me remember that we're on this journey together, and if I spend more time listening to him, observing him, and soaking in what he has to teach me, the rest falls into place much easier.

That's the beautiful thing about motherhood. It's really more about what we learn together as mother and child, and what we teach each other rather than how I rate as an individual on the parenting scale.

I am eternally grateful for the lessons I have already been taught, the example my little E sets for me on so many levels, and my hope is that I will never lose sight of what he might be able to teach me.

Defining Motherhood: a guest post by Wendy

I am so excited that Wendy from Blue Lily Photography (yes, you read that right!) agreed to guest post for me while they are gallivanting across the world on an adventure.  Besides the fact that she and her hubby are my photography idols, I adore the love that is so openly expressed for her children and I wanted to share that Mother's love some more.  (And secretly, now that we are totally tight--because guest posting on someone's blog automatically makes a woman tight with another (did you know that Wendy?), I'm hoping that I'll get a blog buddy photo session when they come to Seattle.  heehee. just kidding.  kinda.)  

It's so common for little girls to dream about one day becoming a mother. I was one of those little girls, and I'd often talk with my mom about what kind of mother I'd be when I grew up.

"I'll braid their hair and take them to dance lessons, just like you do to me, mom!" I'd say, with a huge smile on my face. I'd dream of all the babies I'd have and how I'd sew them matchy matchy clothes and make them fabulous dinners.

That's the kind of mom I had, so it was natural to think I'd be Mrs. Domestic. But wow, I was so wrong.

While I do every so often (read: once a decade) long to make a quilt or bake a dessert, for the most part, I'm completely uninterested in performing most "typical" motherly duties. I don't like cooking dinner, or grocery shopping, or menu planning. Thinking of being the mommy taxi driver for the kids makes my stomach churn, and decorating the house and attending PTA meetings just gets me antsy. I often wonder what went wrong with me, why I don't take any pleasure out of performing these duties, and why I did end up being so less domestic than my own wonderful, enriching mother.

But my mom loved us kids fiercely, as do I love my kids with my whole heart. Both my mom and I went through some years of infertility issues, and I think both of us learned a lot of patience from it. I can't say that the years we waited to have children made us love our kids any more than a mom who didn't need to wait. That's simply not fair. But I can say that though we do have such different mothering styles, we are ever so similar in how we love our children.

My mom constantly tried to instill a good work ethic in her children- I am trying, too.

My mom taught her children how to love one another- I am trying, too.

My mom loved her children whether they shared genes with her or not- I do, too.

My mom used her infertility trials to strengthen her spirit- I did, too.

My mom frequently prayed for patience with her children- I do, too.

My mom thinks children are funny and precious and sent straight from heaven. I do, too.

But the similarity in my mother and I that I value the most, I think, is that both she and I just knew we were meant to be mothers.

I knew I wanted to have the experience to teach little beings about life. I wanted to hold them, feed them, instruct them, show them. I wanted to have the great responsibility of bringing up a new human, and demonstrating to them what it means to live a full, happy, honest life.

It's certainly not easy to be a mom and have such enormous responsibilities, but it is definitely worth it. Sure, there are days that are hard and days that are extremely hard. There are days that I clean up the same part of the house three thousand times and wonder how I got into this mess. But deep down, at my core- I'm a mom. Just like my mom and my mom's mom. Women who feel inside them a greater purpose- to raise up children, no matter where they come from, no matter how they came to your family.

I'm so grateful for my two darling children, who finally came to our family. They bring such meaning to my life, such brightness and a happy spirit. I love them fiercely, with my whole heart. And even though I don't tend to bake, sew, or drive them to and from lessons all day, they know I love them. I show it in my own way. :)

Defining Motherhood: a guest post by Amanda

I have featured Amanda on my blog before, but clearly, I did the right thing by asking her to contribute again.  She is an incredible example to me in well...just about everything!  The recent unexpected loss of her youngest son has brought so many tears as I have witnessed her struggle and strength.  Her new blog Sunshine Promises documents her new journey as a Mother to three on earth and one in heaven.

Insanity is hereditary; you get it from your children. ~Sam Levenso

So, I've had one of those days. All Moms out there know what I mean. The kind of day where you wonder if ANYTHING that you are doing is making a difference. The kids are fighting, Hubby had a stressful day at work, no one likes dinner, your children act like they were raised in a barnyard (with the house acting as a living testament) and you wonder if your mind has completely atrophied after years of speaking toddler jibberish.

And that doesn't even touch on the really hard stuff.

Anyone been there?

In one way, I would say that a day such as this is SO not worthy of documentation let alone a tribute to Motherhood. And yet, such days are a testament of what it takes to be a mother. Indeed, Motherhood is not for sissies.

What other position is on shift 24-7, 365 days a year and requires one to be available at a moments notice to handle any and all concerns, tantrums, heartaches, joys or infirmities? And vacation days . . . vacation what? Yeah, there is no vacation. Who would read a job description such as that and sign up for the job?

Not I.

And yet, I did.

That said, despite the relentless rigors and demands of Motherhood, one cannot put into words the paydays that a Mother has. Whether its feeling your baby flutter within your womb, holding it close to your chest shortly after birth, seeing its first smile and gurgle or hearing him/her say "mommy" for the first time. No signing bonus, benefits or salaries can touch the worth of those to a Mother's Heart.

On days like today, I must remember the Big Picture and what I am striving to accomplish long term.

Anna Quindlen said it best: "If we stop to think about what we do, really do, we are building for centuries. We are building character, and tradition, and values, which meander like a river into the distance and out of our sight, but on and on and on."

I believe that. I believe that - despite my frustrations on days like today - I am involved in a most noble work. I am building human beings and carving out traditions and norms that will affect generations to come. What is more noble than that? Indeed, the way I can affect true change in the world and contribute to a brighter and more hopeful tomorrow is by the strides and efforts I make in my own Home.

My children are my greatest work. Each a Masterpiece. They are unique and come with talents, tendencies and gifts that can make the world a better place. It is MY job to teach them, guide them, support them and give them opportunities to develop, look outside themselves and give back to discover their own power and influence. And - as I do that - I will help them achieve what they were sent to do. Indeed, even change the world.

And so, as we Mighty Mothers wade through the good and the growing, we must realize that days like today DO happen. And they MUST. It is part of the the job description. But the paydays WILL come. They will. And someday (maybe soon), we will stand back in awe and thank Heaven that we were blessed to change the world. One child at a time.

Defining Motherhood: a guest post by Kelly

I have been a long time blog reader of Kelly McCaleb and I am thrilled that she agreed to guest post for me (like, did a happy dance in my chair.)  I love her blog for so many reasons, but I have been particularly drawn to her complete honesty about her secondary infertility because I experienced it myself. She is refreshing and real and celebratory of the sweet things in life. I just adore what she is about to share...

A Mother Who Longs To Be A Mother

I have been trying to get pregnant for 7 years. But don’t feel sorry for me, I have a beautiful 7 year old daughter who made me a mother coming exactly 10 months after my husband and I were married. She was easy to bring to the earth, and has given me a duty every day to nurture and care for the fruit of my womb.

It is difficult to handle the conflicting emotions of secondary infertility. On one hand, you long and hope and pray and feel incomplete and broken. On the other hand, you feel blessed and full of love and completely enraptured with the child of God trusted into your care. It’s a difficult balance of trying to enjoy every moment with one child, while mourning the “loss” of the other children you feel in your heart but never in your belly.

Inevitably, the decision must be made when and if adoption is right for you. In the case of secondary infertility, where your body has proven it can carry a healthy pregnancy, conceived without fertility treatments no less, the question becomes agonizingly hard to decide: when do you stop focusing your energy on readying your body to house a miracle and begin looking for your baby elsewhere?

If you haven’t experienced this tug of emotion, this mourning for the loss of your fertility, this sense of defeat- you cannot possibly understand how complex these feelings are. Often I am told, just because you choose to adopt doesn’t mean you are giving up on bearing your own children. These well meaning folk don’t understand the level of emotional stress and total tunnel vision required to pursue either path. It’s a lot. That’s all I can say, it’s a lot.

And I’ll be extra honest, and admit my human frailty. When you have your own child- who displays your husband’s sprinkles of freckles, your sensitivity, his temper, your spiritual nature, his sense of humor… when you are in love with all of those things a serious dark doubt comes to your mind of your ability to love another’s child as much as your own. I’m told, and I do believe, that this is a non-issue, however common the fear. When you hold that adopted baby for the first time, I’m told, you know. You just know.

So this is where I live. In the uncertain world where an already mother wonders if she’ll ever mother again. Each day wondering if this will be her only 2nd grade class she’ll ever make a teacher appreciation door for, the only child she’ll drag to piano lessons. It’s a world where many people have it all figured out for you, but you know you need to feel the answer, be prompted of the next move, feel when to fight and when to relax, in your own heart.

Those answers can be hard. In my experience they can be uncomforting words like: patience.

Something deep in me tells me I’ll be a mother again. So my job right now? Enjoy every second that I have my little girl all to myself. We’re pretty lucky to have this time together.

Yes, lucky is a good way to look at it.

Defining Motherhood: a guest post by Amy

I am excited to introduce Amy as the first guest blogger in a week of posts to celebrate Mother's Day.  She is so optimistic in her writing and just about the best blog commenter I have ever encountered.  I hope that one day we can hang out because she is definitely a woman who embraces life.  That, and I could talk with an English accent all day and she would think that I am the coolest.  I am so glad that she is willing to share her thoughts on her recent loss of her baby girl....it certainly puts my role as a mother in perspective.

 

I have never changed my baby’s diaper.

I have never wiped away her tears.

I have never yelled at her for not cleaning her room.

I have never relied heavily on Baby Einstein dvds to keep her occupied so I can take five measly minutes to get dressed.

I’ve never spent a sleepless night trying to get her to go to sleep.

I’ve never even heard her cry.

Yet, I am a Mother.

I won’t see her learn to walk.

I won’t record her first words.

I won’t go shopping for her Easter dress.

I won’t ever watch her like a hawk around big crowds or swimming pools.

But I am a Mother.

Ella is my first long-awaited baby. She only lived for two hours after she was born. After all the doctor’s appointments, ultrasounds, and hospital visits, after all the fasting and the many tearful prayers, the miracles I’d been hoping for did not happen. I had to let my baby go.

Yet, with nothing to show for it but stretch marks and a c-section scar, I am still a Mother.

Everything that is beautiful makes me think of her.

When I hear a song that stirs my heart, I see her face.

And when I see a perfect sunset, a perfect flower, or the perfect morning sunshine, I remember my perfect little girl.

She’s not with me now, but one day she will be. Then, my miracle will happen.

Most mothers will never know the pain of losing their child. Most don’t want to even imagine it.

So don’t.

Don’t think about what you would do if you had to plan a funeral. Think about them here and now. Don’t think about what you’ll do when they’re just a little older. Don’t look ahead to when they’re “finally” potty-trained, independent, able to drive, or out of the house.
Just love them and show it. Mean it. Every single day of their lives.

Because you know what, Mom? They are your miracle.

Defining Motherhood: a guest post by Mary

My dear friend Mary (who has a private blog) agreed to send me her thoughts on being a Mother.  I am so glad she did, because her advice on parenting and lack of sleep and how to handle my daughter when she is sassy has calmed my troubled heart more times than I can count. I love her and her example of what it means to be a Mother, and I am so happy to share her goodness and perspective with everyone else.

Years ago, when I was in college, I was in a coffee shop of some sort with a group of kids from school having a conversation with a boy about future plans. I don't remember his name, or the whole extent of our conversation, but I do remember what he said when I told him I planned (among other things) to be a Mother one day. He said, you would "limit yourself like that?!". Those were his words exactly. I've written them down before. Limit myself? Even then, even before I'd ever felt the first tiny movement of life within me, I knew he was dead wrong. Even then, something inside my soul stirred and made me forcefully defend Motherhood. I knew what I wanted to be one day, and I knew that there would be absolutely nothing limiting about it.

I've never had to struggle with long periods of infertility, and though I know the pain and sadness of miscarriage, I can't fully empathize with any woman who has suffered this many times over. I can't fully comprehend the pain of a Mother whose child has died too early (and any time they should go before us would be too early). I DO know, however, what those Mothers are aching over and missing because I have it. I live that lovely dream each and every day and I love it. I wish there was a stronger word than just "love"! I am some days stretched too thin, but more often than not I am the happiest, most fulfilled, industrious, and creative I've ever been in my life.

Don't get me wrong, I live in a bustling city with power-suits aplenty. I've attended functions with very polished women who showed up in cars that cost more than anything I've ever owned. These ladies obviously didn't have to pry their un-manicured fingers away from sticky toddler hands to go out as I did. I've received the look of incomprehension from their flawless faces when I've said, "I am a stay-at-home-Mom, and I have four children". They give me the usual platitudes about how that is also a very demanding job, but I know that they often don't believe what they are saying to me. I know that they often feel, as that teenage boy did, that I am not living up to my potential.

I've considered the important careers, fashionable clothes, lithe bodies, and beautiful jewelry of those very high-powered, childless women and wondered seriously what it would be like to be only responsible for me. What if I had chosen a different path? No matter how I try, I cannot imagine it. I can't imagine my life could ever be as full as it is without these beautiful children of mine in the center of it. Work only for myself? Love only me? Serve just me? How empty. How lonely. So much.... less.

I would not trade. I couldn't love what I do more. This is my life's great work. I know that God has blessed me with these children and He has given me a divine directive to raise them up (physically, mentally, spiritually) to the best of my ability. I don't want to let him down, but my motivation is more than even that - when my time here on earth is done, and when my children remember me, my hope of hopes is that they can say with unshakable knowledge, "my Mother loves me, everything she did for me made that clear".

Defining Motherhood

April sped by so incredibly fast and then I suddenly realized that Mother's Day would be sneaking up on me pretty quickly as well.  The celebration can be so fleeting, and so this year I decided that I wanted it to mean more (although I cannot complain about breakfast in bed!)  Not just to me, but to all of us.  I wanted to recognize all sorts of mothers in various stages and situations in life.  I wanted to celebrate the beauty of what being a mother IS and how it defines each of us differently.  So, for the next week I have asked some lovely women to tell me what being a mother means to them.  Stay tuned!  You will learn and love so much. 

And to get your Mama heartstrings going...feel free to check out my most recent newborn photo session.  My heart lept the moment I took this photo...