Mothering Matters

 

The room felt as though it was empty.

The vacant corner bore no evidence of what had once stood there.

No one would know what took place in that space.

The bending, the rocking, the praying, the soothing, the tears, the countless sleepless nights; and the numerous loving looks exchanged that needed no words, because outstretched arms said it all.

You are mine.

I love you.

---

With guests coming to stay, a short huny-do-list was made.  It was simply an item to be checked off the list.

Take the crib down.

My youngest, Noah (2), lives in the room that transforms into the guest room when visitors come to stay.  He smoothly made the transition into a big-boy-bed a couple months ago but we waited to take his crib down, just in case the allure was not long lasting. So.far.so.good.  The time had come to reclaim the space.

My husband recruited the help of my oldest son.

Single handedly, my almost ten year old, disassembled the crib.  My pride in him swelled, as I reflected on the man he’s becoming.  I was surprised by the wetness on my cheeks as the tears slowly spilled out and trickled down.

Ten years.

Ten years ago, I brought my very first baby home from the hospital to lay his sweet head down in the safety of this crib.  And so began this amazing, surprising, and sacred journey of motherhood.

Ten years and four babies later, I think back lovingly on the hours I spent rocking, swaddling, nursing, carrying, changing, wiping, feeding, singing, reading, praying and caring for

my babies.

What I’ve learned in ten years of consistently caring for babies, who rotated one after another in and out of this very crib, is that the beauty of motherhood is not in the seen, out-in-front moments.  The beauty of motherhood is found in the behind the scenes, in the daily, in the mundane, in the beauty of smallness.

In the loving looks exchanged between mother and child.

In the knowing and consistency of being present.

In the unexpected moments that catch you off guard, capturing your attention to point of never-wanting-to-forget.

In celebrating meaningful moments in the world of a child, that might seem small and meaningless to anyone else.

---

She fixes,

she heals,

she cares,

she restores,

she celebrates,

she laughs,

she makes things right,

somehow.

She’s equipped with humble tools:  tape, superglue, bandaids, snacks and wipes.  But sometimes all that’s needed is her listening ear and a hug & a kiss.

There is no glamour or spotlight to be had.  {Mostly comfy pants that stretch easily}

But there is a mysterious joy realized in the giving of herself to care for someone else. Fulfillment can be found with no applause awaiting her on the other side.

---

As the crib was packed up and put away, I reflected back on the memories of moments.  There are many hopes to be had in motherhood, but in the years to come I pray I will continue to soak in the beauty of the behind the scenes moments that were designed just for me and mine.  When the fullness of the meaning of the moment can’t be shared with anyone else.

These are the true treasures of motherhood.

To my fellow-Mothers, Mothers-to-be and Mothers-to-others  ~

You receive as you give.

It’s real.  Your mind is not making it up, although you don’t fully understand it.  Your soul knows the truth of those treasured moments. When your heart realizes there is joy to be found in sacrifice.

Mothering matters and you’re making a difference.

Even when no one else sees it.

Especially then.