My experience with motherhood (so far)

Disclaimer: I realize that none of what I have to say is new or unique to me, but I know it's helped me to hear other mothers talk honestly about their struggles, so for what it's worth, here's my honesty.

My Mother's Day gift from Tim: matching skirts that he made with minimal help from me.

Mother's Day seems like a good day to finally put down some thoughts I've had about motherhood in the last oh, seven months or so. Mostly for me - writing helps me discover what it is I really want to say. 

Sometimes when I'm talking about Georgie to people I don't see often, they'll ask something like, "Don't you love being a mother?" or "Isn't it the best?" And I answer truthfully: "Sometimes." And sometimes it is, like when Georgie gives me kisses or cuddles or reaches for me or does something new and delightful; when a little head rests on my shoulder or tickling produces baby giggles; when I get enough sleep to have the energy to play and work and clean and win the nap time battles; and even sometimes when none of those things happen, being a mother to my little girl feels precious and natural and rewarding and is the best thing I could ever have asked for. And in all those moments, I absolutely love this new role of mine.

But a lot of times (I hate to admit this out loud but here's the truth), I haven't loved being a mother. A lot of those times are directly linked to the extreme lack of sleep that has gone on for all but about six weeks of the last seven and a half months; linked directly to feeling inept as I've struggled to figure out why in the heck my baby is fussing or won't sleep or won't eat; linked directly to books, experts, and blogs telling me that if I do this or that, all difficulties will disappear and yet they don't; and linked directly to me trying to catch up at work while mothering. 

I don't think any of these situations or feelings are unusual, which is why I feel like I shouldn't complain - this is just how it goes. And there are times when I do need to hear that from myself. This hard stuff? This is part of being a mother. This is why everyone says that being a parent is hard - because it is. But saying that having kids is hard is like saying water is wet to someone who has never experienced water before; sure, you know water is wet in an abstract way, but until you feel it, it doesn't actually mean anything. And knowing it's going to be hard ahead of time doesn't make it any less difficult or draining in the moment.

About two months ago, I read this blog post about motherhood on the Segullah blog, and I cried and cried to read someone else describe so accurately what I was feeling. I needed to hear that I wasn't alone in my feelings of frustration, loneliness, and even resentment at times. And I especially needed the reminder that motherhood is, in its essence, a sacrifice, and it's supposed to be - something I knew but hadn't connected to my day-to-day struggles.

I have since realized, though, that I don't have to sacrifice all of myself to being a mother; in fact, I shouldn't. I embraced this role and relationship so entirely that I felt/still feel like I have lost parts of myself to it, but embracing the other parts of me will actually make me a better mother by making me a more balanced person. And I want that, for me and for my kids. I want them to see that they can be many things at once, that there aren't limits to who they can be - that choosing one role or one life doesn't have to be to the exclusion of all others.

There was one night a few weeks ago when I was rocking my screaming baby to sleep for the umpteenth time that night that I found myself trying to remember why I wanted to be a mother. (Yes, it was a low moment.) Every answer I came up with didn't feel right. Because I wanted to nurture? To teach? Well, yes, but that wasn't it. Then with a little praying and a few tears, my perspective changed, and instead of wondering what I was hoping to get out of being a mother, I saw my role as a parent in an eternal light. My purpose is to bring some of Heavenly Father's spirit children into this world, give them bodies, and help them find the path back to Him. In that sense, I am a caretaker of souls and am trying to help these little souls in their eternal progress, in a way that also helps me in my own eternal progress by stretching me and forcing me to grow.

I hope (and pray) I can come back to this moment of clarity when things get hard, as they do rather frequently. I hope I can keep this perspective with me so that when I have toddlers who throw tantrums or teenagers who give me sass, I will see past my own frustration to what my purpose really is. Do I want another baby? Truthfully, not right now. Ask me again when Georgie is sleeping through the night. Would I trade her or trade being a mother for anything? Not for the world. This is absolutely where I am meant to be right now. Do I wish it were a bit easier? Heck yes. Do I embrace the good with the hard? I'm trying. Does this make me a normal, everyday mom who is doing her best to figure this out? I think it does.