It's time for another Five Minute Friday! I fully intended to blog more this week, but it didn't happen. And how I wanted to edit this week, friends! But here it is, my five minutes on the word of the week: remember.
Sweet child of mine, now that you are two I find myself looking back, remembering those early days with you. The memories already aren't as clear as they once were, and so I must commit them to permanence with these feeble words. When I held you in my arms that first time, in the early morning hours of March 4, your tiny body felt light, almost nothing, and yet the weight of what I was becoming—mother--was heavy upon me. Though I had longed to be your mother, waited years and those anxious nine months, that moment when I held you surprised me. I did not feel immediately transformed. I did not feel suddenly graced with wisdom. But oh, how I felt love! How I felt amazed at the wonder and love of God, smiling down on me through your little face.
In the weeks that would come, weeks of little sleep and lots of crying (on both our parts!), I spent more time questioning than trusting, more time worried than at peace, and I wish I could take it all back and do it all over. I would tell myself to soak in those early moments, frustrating and difficult and exhausting as they were, and I would tell myself that it does get better. That even though motherhood did not come to me all at once in a blaze of glory, it has come in quieter ways, in quieter moments: in the stillness of having your head snuggled up near mine, of hearing your breath mingle with mine, of feeling your hands lovingly touch mine. Being your mother has been the hardest thing I have ever done, but oh, how thankful I am for the hard things, for in them I find out who I truly am. WHOSE I truly am. And when you are older and welcoming your first little one, I pray that knowledge finds you as well.