as i was thinking about mother's day this weekend, i was remembering a blog post i wrote, oh, six years ago now. and i wanted to share it again. i wrote it because one of my friends was pondering why her birth stories weren't really the kind that are fit for a story book. her post was titled shouldn't it by easy? she was writing and thinking about why, if women are made to have babies, why isn't it easy? my response ::
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i don't know why.
i had an emergency c-section at 38 weeks with my girl. years ago both my girl and i would have died.
then, my second pregnancy - i went into labor at 30 weeks. i had drugs to stop my labor. i was on total bedrest. he still came early - and we did a c-section even though he was tiny - because my pelvis is just too small. then he took a ride to an NICU two hours away from me . . .
i don't know why.
i read blogs where mamas labor at home and deliver in a few pushes a healthy baby into the arms of their midwives and family . . . i know mamas who deliver in the hospital and hold their babies right away, fresh from the womb . . .
i have two children, but I have never held a baby fresh from my womb. i held my daughter three hours after she was born. i held my son two and a half days after he was born.
i don't know why.
but i do know that i love my kids just as much and more than lots of mamas who have other birth stories. i know that i bonded with them, completely. i know that i am so thankful that we are all here.
i know that nothing about being a mama is easy. why should getting the little buddies here in the first place be easy? really. we might as well start right in on digging in there and really working at being a mama. cause it isn't going to get any easier. it won't be any less work. ever.
and I'm not saying that in a pessimistic way. i'm just saying - it's not easy. and sometimes i wish so much that i had two different birth stories. but i have two birth stories! and so what if they aren't all softness and warmth and water and candlelight. they are blood and guts and heartache. they are real. and they are good.
so, here's to mamas who love and sweat and pour out their innermost being for their kiddos - no matter their birth stories.
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then, there was this post, in 2011, about laundry. by now, my boy has grown to somewhere around my nose, and my girl is only an inch or so shorter than me. she and i can share jeans and shoes now. yes, the laundry feels quite different these days.
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and in november last, these words:
we are all growing. i love watching my children grow into themselves, grow into who they are becoming. they are fun, funny, beautiful, smart, kind and wonderful.
when i am listing gratitudes, i must list maddie and isaac, joy and laughter, hugs and snuggles, sweet heads resting on my shoulder, deep conversations and light-hearted jokes, the two babies i rocked who will soon be tall enough to look me straight in the eye, the two tiny ones who grew inside of me and now grow beside me. yes, i must list maddie and isaac. over and over again. the two who made me mom.
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happy mother's day, to all of you beautiful ones who share your moments of motherhood (in all their softness and warmth and blood and guts and heartache and joy) with me and others. i love that we can be an inspiration and an encouragement to one another.
go gently, go fiercely, and be wonderful, my friends.
love, e