Mom

Lately, there have been a lot of articles circulating on Facebook about being a mother. Two in particular have been shared frequently and beautifully describe what it feels like to be a mother. There's nothing like it in the world. Nothing as maddening, nothing as wonderful, nothing as hard, nothing as rewarding. And while my life is crazy and sometimes I wonder how I'm going to do everything, I wouldn't want to do anything else.

I know I've written about this in the past, but I think it's worth mentioning again. One of the articles I read talks about enjoying the special moments (as opposed to enjoying EVERY moment), and I really feel like I try to do that. I don't always succeed, but I really do enjoy my kids. All five of them. And I wouldn't want to do anything else.

When I think about the last 9+ years I have spent as a mother, three distinct memories come to mind. They were experiences when I was instantly struck with how lucky I was to be a mom. None of them was anything big. Just a gentle nudge reminding me to be grateful for what I have.

The first was when Damon was about two. It was after I had lost Chance, and was trying to get pregnant again. I was trying to deal with the fact that I might never have another baby (dramatic conclusion I had reached, I know) and if that was the case, I needed to spend more time focused on the perfect little boy we had already been blessed with instead of feeling sorry for myself because of the boy we had lost. It was on such a day that I took Damon to the library (something we did at least weekly, sometimes more). I was holding his hand as we walked on the sidewalk toward the door. I looked over at the brick facade of the library and saw our reflection--mom and tiny son walking hand in hand--and I was suddenly emotional. It was like someone was trying to remind me just how lucky I was to be able to spend my days as Damon's mom. And I didn't want to do anything else.

A couple of years later, we had moved to Florida and we had added Allie and Kyla to the family, proving that my fears about having a healthy baby again were completely unfounded. It was a Sunday and we were on our way home from church. We parked in the driveway and walked around to the front door. I was in the back of the group, watching as Jeff and the three kids walked into the house. Again, I was slapped with the reality that I was really a mom, and that we were a real family, not just a couple with a baby. I couldn't help but smile. I was doing what I had always wanted to do. And there was nothing else I wanted to do.

Finally, I had the same moment of realization again when I was pregnant with McKay. We had taken the kids to Pizza Pie Cafe, and I was busy running around trying to get everyone the food they wanted from the buffet so that I could get some food for myself. I was standing in line at the buffet and I glanced back at Jeff and the kids sitting at the table. And when I realized they were all mine, I felt it again. That overwhelming gratitude that comes when you recognize just how much you have been blessed. And that no matter how many hours you spend taking care of everyone's needs but your own, you wouldn't want to do anything else.