I Choose Motherhood

Today was one of those days.

The weather was rainy, I had errands to run, and I had two toddlers that wanted to act like... well, like toddlers. First stop was the post office. We walked in, and both of my children spotted everything that looked like fun things to touch. Bubble wrap, for starters (maybe we could put that out of reach for a 3 year old??), and some blue ropes that looked perfect for swinging. I can't say I blame Sarah Claire or Luke for wanting to play... is there any place more boring than the post office?

Anyway, as I'm trying to write the address on the package that I was mailing, I hear my babies starting a round of Ring-Around-the-Rosie behind me. It wasn't long before their game landed them in a tangled heap on the floor at the feet of a few other people in line, and there I was, trying to pull them up off of the ground, looking - and feeling - very much 31 weeks pregnant. I hear a couple of women behind me, swapping war-stories from their own motherhood experience, and finally one of them said to me a few words that changed the course of my day: "I wouldn't want to be you!"

I think I know what she might have meant. I think - or at least hope -  that she meant to say that she knew it was a hard job, and let me shout my agreement: IT IS. And let me add that today, I was failing miserably. But what I heard in that moment wasn't just that it was hard; I heard that it wasn't worth it. The look on her face wasn't one of empathy, it was something more like disgust, and (thankfully) I couldn't think of a single response. All I could do was pick Luke up, hold Sarah Claire's hand, pay for the package I was mailing, and get to the car. Sure, they kicked and screamed as I put them in their car seats, and of course the woman who spoke to me walked out just in time to witness a tantrum that will go down in the books as one of the most memorable, but all I could think about was what she doesn't get to see.

She doesn't get to see Luke's sleepy eyes when I walk into his room each morning, or see Sarah Claire jump up and down and hug him when she sees him after nap time. She doesn't get to hear Luke's "wuv wu's" or Sarah Claire's "yove you's" or their hilarious renditions of their favorite songs. She doesn't know what it feels like to have Luke shout "MOMMA'S HERE!" when I pick him up from his classroom at BSF, or to have Sarah Claire ask me to "'nuggle" her in her bed before she falls asleep. She doesn't get to hear Sarah Claire pray for her family, or hear Luke ask for a kiss. She saw what she saw - which was complete chaos - but she didn't get a good enough glimpse of what it's like to live in our world.

So to all of the bystanders watching a young mother struggle through parenthood, please don't leave her feeling like her children are burdens - on you OR on her. Instead, remind her that motherhood is worth it. Chances are, she wants and needs the gentle reminder. When we're bogged down in diaper changes, discipline struggles, and sweeping cheerios, it's easy to get tunnel vision and get discouraged. It was definitely discouraging for just a moment to hear someone tell me that they wouldn't want to walk where I'm walking. Thankfully, God reminded me to return to an eternal perspective, and to stop and consider what a blessing it is to be right where I am, crazy post office trips included! I know that the lady meant absolutely no harm, and I know I can expect more comments like this from now until my children are adults, and that's ok. But what a difference it would have made today if she had just looked at me and said, "Stay the course. It's hard, but it's worth it."

And it's a good thing that she doesn't want to be me, because I have to say, no matter how hard it might seem for a moment, I wouldn't trade places with anyone in the world. I choose motherhood, chaos and all.

"Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from Him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them."
- Psalm 127:4-5