The Side of Motherhood I Did Not Know

For some of us, the word mother is warm and welcoming. For others, a bitter memory or longing. Or maybe both. Whatever it may be, whatever came after the first breath, we all started with her—our mother.

The one who carried us, who actually grew us, who knew us before anyone else.

A year ago, I sat in my bed and I thought of my own mother, wondering how in the world she managed to raise three when I was wondering how I was going to raise two. I thought about how we waited six years to have a baby—the struggle, heartache, the surrender of it all. How we tried adoption but it fell though.

Then finally, a baby.

So I sat there in our bed, staring at my almost eight month belly, awaiting the arrival of our second. I was on partial bed rest because she wasn’t gaining weight, so I was pounding down Denver’s own Little Man ice cream…with a side of donut.

Photo Credit: Philippe Put, Creative Commons

Though I hadn’t seen her yet, I could see her. Though I had not held her yet, my arms felt her.

I now fully listen when someone speaks of their own sorrow.

I don’t try to offer some cliché phrase or bustle ahead in my day. Because this thing called motherhood has taught me that in this life, the fight matters right along with the joy of it. Being a mom has changed me at my core. I know I will mess up, and I know I will succeed – both many times over. I will heal the wounds when I can, I will recklessly love, and I will fight for my girl like a fierce mother does.

About an hour after the nurse told us our girl had Down Syndrome, Michael walked beside the bed and asked everyone to leave the room. His face swollen with tears, he placed his hand on my stomach and said:

“For You created her inmost being; you knit her together in her mother’s womb…she is fearfully and wonderfully made…”

I broke, and we both just sobbed together.

I have never felt love in such an insurmountable force than I did in that moment. If you were standing in that hospital room, you would have felt it too—something holy. Like some Other was with us, putting breath back into our lungs, hope to heart. Something like a mother. Holding her children tight, seeing us vulnerable and weak, and stitching our wounds back together.

The Side of Motherhood I Did Not Know is a post from: Storyline Blog