This blog starts somewhere, and ends up somewhere else completely, it was written through dry eyes and tears - mostly tears - so please forgive me if it doesn't all make sense, I did not double check or re-read anything at time of post.
Dearest readers,
I've long been absent from writing here at OhWowMommy!, and though I have enough excuses to break the internet, I'll instead write from the heart, and probably shed a few tears along the way.
You see, this is the blog I've been avoiding. I have nearly 40+ blogs sitting in the edit bin, because nothing was coming out right. Everything felt forced. I've long been avoiding another raw and real blog, ever since I wrote "Bi-Polar Mommy".
I'd rather sneak a funny story about motherhood into your timeline. My ten month old with 1 tooth and a penchant for growling. The in's and out's of dealing with the tiniest little curls you've ever seen, and how to avoid the massive dread locks that eventaute at an alarming rate...
But that's not what I need to share.
What I need to share, per usual, is what's on my heart.
so lets do this.
To be a mother,
To be a mother is to wake early, gather up your tiny baby, changefeedbathedressandplay, until nap time, when you then lay baby down, and follow suit. While baby sleeps, we clean up, we dress ourselves, do hair/makeup/what have you, eat a hurried breakfast, and try and do the multitude of things there are to be done. When baby wakes up, we repeat.
Learning from example, my own mother sets the bar exceedingly high, not only rearing seven children into this world, but keeping home and providing an education. She plays taxie man, teacher, chef and a multitude of other roles until finally everyone is in bed, and then she cleans, then she eats, then she prepares for the next day and then, maybe, she sleeps.
However, this isn't how I've been mothering, and it leaves me feeling 'less then' daily.
I haven't yet gone into detail on my recent state of health, it's an ever-vulnerable spot for me, and I often choose to ignore it to my greatest strength.
I'm sick. I'm sick, and know one knows why.
In late February, earlier this year, a crop of deep purple bruises sprouted on on left arm. Being fair skinned, I just over looked it as an odd occurrence.
By the end of the week, the bruises had spread up and down both arms.
By the end of the month, they had continued down my back.
By mid April, cheek too toe, I was covered in deep purple, black and blue. Bruises like you'd never seen, some measuring nearly 6 inches in diameter. Everything hurt, everything hurt - always.
Nights became sleepless, bottle feedings at 4am were a relief from the frustrating of what felt like trying to sleep on a pile of rocks.
My poor husband would hug me, forgetting about the new bruise on my shoulder. Daily I'd bounce my daughter on bruised hips. Every time I left the house, heat wave aside, I'd be in full length sleeves and pants. Two, Three, Four layers of makeup to hide the bruise on my cheek.
Nearly four months into this battle I've seen countless Doctors, specialists, hematologists, - I've given gallons of blood for testing, I've battled insurance, I've accepted 'cash patient' status, and I've made an appointment for a $700 full blood aggregometry test, the actual reading of the test not included, sigh.
All this to say,
I'm sad.
To be a Mother who is in near constant need of help. To feel as though my daughter, perfect and lovely, has spent too many days inside, rather than out playing.
To be a Mother who garners up all her energy to take my daughter for a walk, only to find myself faint and defeated by the halfway point.
To be a Mother who feels defeated.
To be a Mother who aches, who longs, to be like all the other women around her.
To be a Mother who makes that stupid kombucha stuff, or can share in a conversation about healthy eating. When really, all I can do is try my hardest to keep down whatever sounds the least puke inducing.
I've lost over 20 lbs these past few months, 10 of those lbs over these last two weeks.
I met, and passed my pre-baby weight.
I've recently made an emotional lean towards crying. First I was stubborn, then I was angry, I've wallowed in resent, and now I'm just sad.
I'm tired always. I'm nauseous, hungry, angry, sad, I don't understand why, and God's timing isn't matching up to mine.
God, what is your plan here? I don't understand it. I just want to play with my baby. I want to take her on play dates, and keep the house clean, and go the extra mile for those around me. I'm tired of asking my sisters to watch Charlotte for an hour. I'm tired
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To be a mother, who types up the things she doesn't want to face. Who then has a complete break down and does what? Goes to her mother. Who cries her eyes out for 40 minutes and listens to the advice of the women who raised her.
'Give more to God' are the words I've taken away from the conversation I just had with my mom. Through tears and a snotty nose, my mom gives me the words of encouragement I need to hear.
'I don't know why God has you where you are, but you just need to give more of yourself to God'
My mom has taken care of me through it all. You name it, and we've been through it.
A legacy I pray I pass down to my own daughter.
Maybe this was about the insecurtieis we all face, of being a good mother. Maybe it was a venting space about the struggle with my health. What I do know for sure though,
To be a Mother is to teach your children about a GRACIOUS, LOVING and EVER-PRESENT GOD, to teach them to WORSHIP and PRAY, and REST IN HIS EMBRACE, and to always, always, give more to God.
thank you mommy, happy mothers day.
