Motherhood

I can hardly believe we just passed the 2 year mark from our Hunter's birth and passing. Two long, yet short, difficult, yet blessed, years. As I was sitting here Pinterest-ing ideas for Lizzie's first birthday, I couldn't believe the wave of emotions that washed over me. I have never been an outwardly emotional human being, until I became a mother. Now, I will shed a tear over a touching commercial, or sob over the little baby bird who died after falling out of his nest at my work, and I wouldn't change that for the world. My experience with motherhood, though limited when counting months and days, makes me feel as though I've lived two lifetimes. Perhaps that is just the "norm". But I also feel that my experience as a mother is so vastly different from the "norm". I was a mother, for a time, with no living children. To be that mother is so lonely. You don't feel like you fit in any category, and we, as humans, love to put ourselves and others in categories. I wasn't like my other mom friends. I had no child to bring to a play date, no stories of sleepless nights, no real understanding of the ins and outs of what motherhood entailed. Yet I didn't fit in with those who had no children, who had never experienced the reality change that comes when you find out you're pregnant, who had never felt those beautiful little flutters that let you know it's all "real". Before you become a parent, you have no idea of the magnitude with which you are capable of loving another human being. You truly think you know, but it's so much more than you could ever imagine. Everything about motherhood is "more". Including the grief you feel when that child you've loved from the very second you learned they were there, is simply not there any longer. This past week has been full of memories and reflection. Celebrating the birth of a child who never got to come home is truly painful and peaceful and agonizing and...I could go on and on. It's filled to the brim with emotions. This year, I had my Lizzie here. The added dynamic of having another child who I can hold, kiss, love, on these heavy days, is so beautifully heartbreaking. I have been blessed to get to be a mother to her. She has helped heal some wounds that were so deep, so raw, I couldn't imagine them ever easing. Each milestone she has reached has been a bittersweet reminder of the child we never got to have these experiences with, and just how blessed I am now. Not a day passes when I don't look at her beautiful face, see those big, blue eyes and thank God for her in my life, while at the same time wondering if her brother would have had eyes those same blue. With each giggle she lets out, my heart swells with happiness and twangs with a bit of sadness at missing out on Hunter's laugh. That is my experience as a mother. It's so different than I had ever imagined it would be, but it's so much more than I ever could have imagined as well. I feel like I've been allowed to participate in a miracle, with both of my children. I have never felt more fulfilled in my life and I know that no one will ever love me the way my children do. I hope they always know that no one will ever love them the way that I do. I rejoice daily in my role as a mother, and every night, after I put Lizzie to sleep, I look over at her laying in her crib (usually with her little baby bum sticking up in the air), and I hope and pray that she felt loved enough that day. Motherhood is no easy task, regardless of how you arrived at the role. I hope and pray that I do the best that I can, each and every day. It's a good thing I have a little angel who is always looking out for me.