As a little girl a long, long time ago I would play with my baby dolls and pretend I was their mother. As a teenager (only a few years ago, wink) I would babysit babies and children from our church. I learned changing poopy diapers was, well gross and that kids have a mine of their own and can’t always be easily persuaded to watch something other than cartoons on tv. As a young adult I watched friends get married and have children of their own. I treated their children like they were my own, spoiling them and loving them. As a thirty something year old wife, I lost our first child at eleven weeks. After months of trying after our loss, I wondered if I would ever have a child of my own. I prayed and begged God to give me a second chance at being a mom.
Then one day I had a feeling I needed to take a test so I took two. Both were positive. The only thing I could do was cry and shout praises and thanks because I knew it was God who had blessed us with the hope another child. A child we both knew we longed for and already loved.
She was born nine months later and changed my world. Suddenly my wants and desires were centered around her. I never wanted to put her down. I never wanted to leave her. I wanted to give her the world. And at the time that meant any and everything from Target and Toys R Us. She was her daddy’s girl and her mamas world! She still is. She’s now a little girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, who loves her mommy and daddy, and also her little sister.
Getting pregnant the third time was much easier than the second time. It happened so fast and we were now going to have two girls fifteen months apart! Some say because we got pregnant so close together that we made Avery grow up faster than she needed to. Maybe yes, but also no. God knew she needed a little sister, and he knew we needed another little girl, but this time a feisty and spunky little squirt. She completed our family. She also changed our world because now we have two little girls that are Daddy’s girls and their mamas world.
Being a mom hasn’t been the easiest job I’ve ever had. It’s tough, y’all! It’s a blessing for sure. It’s questioning everyday if you are raising them the way you should. It’s learning that Gods grace is enough for you, and that we should show grace to them. It’s trying. It’s rewarding! It’s laughing at their funny dances and silly sayings. It’s worrying everyday if you are enough. It’s loving them more than you love yourself - ten times more!
I am their mother, mama, mom. I’m the only mom they have (whether they like it or not). I’m doing the best I can at making decisions that are best for them, and for us as a family. I know we only get one shot at raising them right. I pray that even though my parenting ways may differ from other moms that my way is best for us and them. I pray I’m not screwing up their childhood. I pray they know how much I love them, always.
It was the desire of my heart to be a mom. And my dreams are now my reality. Everyday is a blessing with them. And everyday I thank the good Lord above for making me their mama.
This Mother’s Day we know a few who are waiting for their turn to be a mom. Terry and I know how it feels to long for a baby, and it can be just as hard on the husband as it is for the wife. We pray their wait isn’t long. We hope this next year brings tears of joy for Mother’s Day!
For all the moms of preschoolers, we just have to keep telling ourselves that we are enough. We are enough as a mom and a wife! And that the terrible twos, threenager, and fournado years won’t last forever.
