I started this blog over a year ago as more of an online personal journal, but with working, child rearing and having a 9 month pregnancy induced nausea and exhaustion, I was forced to set it aside. It was a journey of loss, self-exploration and child awareness that caused me to seriously reconsider the path I was on a year ago, and now here I find myself with no more time but much more of a need of outlet than I did before I became a stay-at-home mom. Sure I have great conversations with my kids, but often by the time my husband comes home from work and dinner is made, family fed, dishes done, children bathed, cuddled, read to, and finally asleep, my own exhaustion sets in and many a day passes without my having expressed myself meaningfully. And so ... the return of the blog.
Motherhood has been an adventure to say the least. When I first held one of my own babies I experienced the giving of unconditional love, but that love was quickly overshadowed with an overwhelming sense of responsibility and often fear. The second time I held a precious gift, I loved again; and this love caused me to reduce my work load, because I had an all too familiar knowledge that time speeds by and the moments of firsts, exhaustion, crying, nursing, fears, and slobbery baby kisses pass like the blink of those precious infant eyes. The third time I anticipated love lasted only weeks and when my hope was lost, I had to rediscover the treasures that had been placed in my care. This too was a journey, one that I do not regret, but every once in a while when I am out or just checking on the kiddos, I feel like a little someone is missing ... the child that only my heart knows. When I first held our fourth baby, my world stopped, and simultaneously I relived the first years with my first two blessings, the loss of my third, and the miracle of my fourth and I knew what I was placed on this earth for.
I never thought I would fall in love again, yet I have and I find myself on a new quest. It is one of creating a safe place both in my arms and in our home for our three children and my husband and I have no clue what I'm doing! Being a perfectionist and a mother don't really go together. I get it desperately wrong far more often than right, but as I learn I must trust that the One who created me loves me too much to leave me the way I am and will grow me. I'm just a caterpillar now and must be content yet striving onward at the same time. Sure there are days when it feels like the sky is falling and others when I'm on top of the world. Life with three young children is not easy; indeed, my arms are often quite literally full and yet my hands must always remain open, knowing that while I want to protect, nurture -- control (really), these gifts are not my own and I am just a willing vessel entrusted with the weighty task of raising them and releasing them.
I may some days get sidetracked with my shadow mission of being supermom or struggle with my Martha Stewart complex, but in the end what will matter is that I loved and that even when I lose it, I've loved in such a way that my children and my husband never have to wonder about it. Even now, my arms are full but my hands and my heart are open. I am honored to be on this journey with so many mommy-friends that do it better than me, those who without knowing it are teaching me. Here's to the journey ...
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Love it, Lindsey! Thanks for sharing your heart. I am so blessed to be on the journey with you.
ReplyDeleteOh Lindsey,
ReplyDeleteWhat a gift you have with words. Thanks for your vulnerability here. It so encourages me. I love that we are on this journey together.
Love,
Mary Robin
PS I also always count to 5 when counting heads. My fourth is only known in my heart, but so dear nonetheless.
I'm glad you wrote. Writing is good and wonderfully therapeutic, and its good to bare ones soul. The only writing worth reading is that which does. I am generally too fearful to write what I feel. The best writers are not afraid.
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