a title worthy of sacrifice

Motherhood: a title worthy of sacrifice

 

Nearly five years ago I married a man who still makes my knees week with a grin only I am privy to noticing. He has made the past five years quite eventful. We've moved five times, created a handful of babies, held nine different jobs (most at the same time), owned four dark cars and tasted more desserts than I ever thought possible. Looking back at the five years, I can't help but feel gratitude for the man who has allowed me to earn my most treasured titles: wife and mother. 

While I plan to write more later this month about what it has meant to me to be Tim's wife, tonight I wish to write my feelings of motherhood. I know I have written this at least ten times on this blog, but motherhood has not come naturally to me. It is a talent I am discovering and developing with every boogery nose, loud tantrum, joyful laugh, leaning lego tower, freshly painted rainbow, botched cookie recipe, skinned knee and princess book. It is a talent I am learning to love. 

Before becoming a stay-at-home-mom last year, I felt I would never rightfully earn the title of mom. I hardly spent time with Mya as an infant and young toddler because I needed to work outside the home to support our family as Tim finished school. I should mention that Tim never asked me to work--I chose to do so for two specific reasons: 1. I could not bear the idea of putting ourselves into a lot of debt when I was fully capable of helping out with the finances and 2. Staying home scared me, even the little hairs on my arms. Unlike the mindless tasks I was asked to complete daily at my job, the task of motherhood seemed foreign and overwhelming. Every night I'd come home from my ten hour work days, look at Mya, and think, "What am I supposed to do with you?" She wasn't a file, a word document or a patient case. She was a living, breathing person who needed not to be "dealt with" rather she needed to be loved and understood. I was much more comfortable with "dealing" with things than I was with the latter. 

Things are quite a bit different now. It has taken more than a year for me to sit down and evaluate myself as a person, and what I see is that the person I am today is a mom. There isn't a part of me that isn't proud of that title. I recently read an article where the author wrote the following comment, "[As mothers] we sacrifice our sense of identity as it once existed, before deciding to accept the role of 'mother' in a show that will never close." I find so much truth in this statement. What defined me before no longer does. I doubt it ever will again. 

My being is now defined by the little choices I make each day to help my children learn and progress in a world that seems to be spiraling out of control. Have I made sacrifices? You bet. But they are temporary setbacks replaced with the hope that my kids will one day grow up to be better than I am. I believe the wheels are already in motion with that lofty goal. 

What have I had sacrifice? I don't like the words "give up" because it makes me feel like I am putting myself second, which isn't really true. Yes, I have had to sacrifice my hope of becoming an author but just for a time, a small blip on my timeline if you will. While I may not be typing away for hours each day, I find myself collecting hand-written notes that I intend to use to enrich my memoir. I've had to sacrifice my body in ways that my once bulimic body would shutter at, but I have also been privileged to feel beautiful at all times in the eyes of one special man. My hips may never be the same but I don't really mind since I am graced with the presence of two beautiful girls all the time. And I've had to adjust some friendships because it just isn't as easy to have a weekly phone conversation while my girls are screaming in the background. 

Obviously these aren't all the sacrifices but these are the ones that seem so very present in my mind at the moment. I do miss working outside the home because it gave me a space where I could gain instant approval or acknowledgement. Motherhood doesn't usually come with instant feedback. Sometimes I wonder if the girls care that I try and plan fun activities for them since I hardly receive an unprompted "thank you." But deep down, I know they do. And whereas working outside the home provided me with ample alone time, staying home has given me the opportunity to stretch my solitary person by being touched a million times a day by four sticky hands. I wouldn't trade those hands for anything. 

Why am I writing about this? Because this past year has been tremendously difficult but wonderful for me as a person and finally I can say that I am happy with who I am. Being called mom may means I have to temporarily put things on hold (such as a teaching career, worldly travel plans, piano lessons, etc.) so I can successfully teach these budding minds I've helped create but it is definitely worth it.