My middle baby snuggled onto my lap, his head was resting against my heart. I closed my eyes and thought of how I wish the moment could last longer than five minutes. I felt his little fingers secure around my hips. Every few minutes he would look up at me to make sure it was still me that was holding him.
I thought about how much work my children are. In the moments of squeeling tantrums, stubborn fits, and the sound of a rebelious "No!", somehow I learn to love my children deeper. They aren't becoming more convienient to me or making my life easier. If anything, I feel the heavy wieght of a difficult stage. From potty training, to a constant escape artist, to finding ways to teach the heart of my oldest son, my children are reminders that my life is not about me.
I talked to a young mom the other day. She had a one-year-old. She was curious how I survived the sleepless nights and the napless days. I was honest, "I don't know…you have to change."
Some of the best moments of my life have come out of the most difficult seasons. I have carried three babies inside of me, nurturing and giving them my best. They knew how to take from my body at the first moment of life. When I brought them into this world, I gave them everything I could. I knew a pain that felt unbearable. The sharp, muscle-gripping pain that brought life into my arms. Six years ago on a warm July morning my first child was born, I learned what it meant to give. It was the hardest morning of my life, but I would do it all over agian.
My proudest moments as a mother are when I give away a piece of myself. It is the giving that makes motherhood so beautiful. You might not see it today, but there is nothing better than to give and expect nothing in return.
Natalie Falls at nataliefalls.com
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