I would love to write something profound and life changing about the institution of motherhood, but it would require thought and effort, and after a day that started at 5:45 a.m., I’ll be honest, I don’t have it in me. Plus, I still have two Oprahs waiting for me on the DVR and it’s really all about priorities.
Mother’s Day 2002, I was 7 weeks pregnant. I was excited, hopeful and giddy. P and I had prayed for a baby and now one was on the way. I remember sitting in church on that Sunday feeling so blessed to be on my way to becoming a baby carrying, spit up wearing member of the motherhood sorority.
And then 2 weeks later, P and I found ourselves sitting in the doctor’s office as he told us there was no heartbeat, no baby.
I didn’t know it then, but I look back now and realize that moment prepared me more for what motherhood really is than if I had carried that baby to term.
Motherhood is about holding someone close and letting them go all at the same time. It’s about loving someone more than you ever imagined, yet not being able to completely protect them from all the challenges they will face. It’s about wanting to do the best job imaginable and raise fine, upstanding members of society, but spending years and years wondering if it’s actually going to happen.
It’s about trust. Trusting that God knows you and knows this child He has given you. Knowing that my strengths are designed to cover her weaknesses. Knowing that even before I was born, God knew someday He would entrust Caroline to me.
And it overwhelms me.
Late last Thursday afternoon, a rainstorm came through and after it was over, an incredible rainbow appeared in the sky. I carried Caroline outside to see it and watched her face as she just stared in pure amazement while my heart exploded just a little bit. She said, “Oh Mama, it’s just like in my books, but better!”
And I was thinking the same thing. Motherhood is just what I dreamed about, but better.
Happy Mother’s Day, y’all.