Mothering

There are times throughout the days where I find my feet dragging and my head cloudy. I heard it best described by Ann Voskamp as being "mother-tired". So often I am mother-tired. When the dishes are constant and the laundry is on the bed, clean but never folded, the dogs need walking and my girl's imagination needs me to play with her. The groceries need putting away, dinner needs preparation, walks need to be taken, housework glares at me.
And yet.
I feel such a tenderness for these things. For her bath toys stacked up in the bathtub, for the silverware thrown into the drawer because she was helping daddy, for her shoes to be strewn about the house. Even for my laundry. A perfect mix of his, hers and mine.
I am so grateful that I was chosen to be her mother.
I am her beacon, I am her safe place.
It takes my breath away.
Each morning I wake up excited, yes excited (no matter how early it is), to see her. I can't wait to hear her words and to marvel at her imagination.
Sometimes she will grab my face and stare into my eyes and kiss me. Even thinking about that makes my heart tremble a bit.
My entire life I wanted to be a mother and I didn't think I would be able to. I don't know why I thought that, but I did.
And now. Now I am living out my deepest desire and my life feels like one giant prize.
The wonder of motherhood covers all of the struggles.
The absolute pure joy I feel when being with her makes the mundane daily tasks seem okay.
She is my favorite and I am so incredibly in awe that I was chosen to be her mother.

Progress

My computer desk sits against a wall with a window. Each time I sit down to type I can gaze outside into my backyard. There are two tall palm trees whose branches are swaying lazily in the breeze. It is a balmy sixty-seven degrees on this, the second day of November.
The sun is on its way down and the light is slowly turning golden. The way it illuminates the palm trees causes me to smile a small smile because how great this life is.
Today has been a day of laughter, smiles, heart-clenching with love for Brett & Neely, of rest and satisfaction.
Yesterday amongst seemingly constant pregnancy talk and pregnancy announcements I had a time of sadness.
All things do not work out the way I would like, in fact, it seems like since I began this journey of gratitude in place of questioning and mistrust, I have been challenged more than ever before.
The conversations had and pieces of information presented to me have been mentally exhausting. I feel like my brain is sore. Then I remember. When building muscles there is always soreness. My brain is used to a negative way of thinking and of course it is going to be sore at first. I must build up to positivity. Turn the fatty negative thoughts to strong positive ones.
While I was washing dishes yesterday I had to repeatedly tell myself not to give up. Not to let one hard day destroy all of the progress I have made in my thought patterns shifting.
I still, at times, feel as if I am wearing sadness, but instead of a cloak it is more like a light sweater.
Progress.

I will leave you with the latest entries in my gratitude journal:


580. My BDC girls making a list of nice things about me (printed and saved in my journal)
581. pink clouds in the sky at sunset
582. early morning texts with my mom
583. warm weather today
584. dinner was good last night
585. sunlight on the palm trees
586. Neely talking to the dogs in a high voice
587. the dogs worn out after our run and walk yesterday
588. Brett participating in Movember

three weeks (almost)

I cannot believe it's been almost three weeks since we found out we were no longer pregnant.
The first week was tough but you know what?
I am okay.
I am better than okay.

I have really tried to be deliberate in my thoughts and words (spoken & written).

When I began One Thousand Gifts somehow I had an inkling that another miscarriage was in my future. I always brushed it away, but here we are. This book is life-changing. My life has been changed.
With my last two I was desolate and all I did was ask God "why?" and sob and question over and over. Which I think is normal. And God was merciful to me. He never got impatient, He was never upset over my questions. He wrapped me up in His arms and never let go.

Page 172 of One Thousand Gifts has the "theme" if you will, of this current pregnancy loss (emphasis added is my own).

The quiet song of gratitude, eucharisteo, lures humility out of the shadows because to receive a gift the knees must bend humble and the hand must lie vulnerably open and the will must bow to accept whatever the Giver chooses to give.

The last several words have resonated with me since I read them months ago.
In the past I have only wanted the good God gives and not the bad. Every single time something bad happened I questioned and basically had a tantrum.
I have come to realize that God is good. He's more than good, He is great. And it grieves me to think that anyone for even one second doubted His goodness because of what has happened to us.
I have no answers, I don't know why some women get to have healthy pregnancies and more often than not I don't. I don't know why this has happened to me. And you know what? It really doesn't matter. Think about it. Even if I had the answers what would it change? It happened.
What matters is that I know and trust that God is in control.
And I trust Him. With all of my heart.

Not long after I posted this entry I was covered in peace. I thought it was just a stage of grief like denial, but no. This is peace that comes from God.
With that peace I don't have any answers, only assurance.
Assurance that I am well loved, no matter what.

I am happy and have so many wonderful blessings in my life. I honestly can't complain.
God is good!