A Baby Changes Everything
A baby changes everything. In the car this afternoon, with two girlies in my back seat, I listened to this song. It's the advent season, the time we look forward to Christmas. It's the time for those grocery store calendars filled with cheap chocolate and the time that many people prepare themselves to celebrate the birth of a savior. I find myself thinking hard about the story of a mother experiencing motherhood in such a strange way; getting pregnant without wanting to, having a baby in filth without her family around her, knowing and maybe fearing that her baby is special, falling in love and wondering what is ahead of her. I had babies in near ideal circumstances and it was hard. I read this story and I think, what was it like for Mary? Religion often seems so far removed from real life. But, I think that people are people. Birth and death and everything in between...for thousands of years we've all experienced it.
A baby changes everything. A friend of mine is having her first baby next month and I see her and smile that knowing smile. Everything is about to change. Babies rip you apart and sew you back together in a much messier and more beautiful way than you can imagine. There's beauty in the brokenness, they say. Motherhood is insane...and rich. You offer up your body, (or endure months of waiting, wishing and hoping if you adopt), your right to sleep, your right to use two hands at the same time at any given time. You find yourself worrying about everything. You love them beyond anything you have ever experienced or could ever dream of, knowing that they will never love you back exactly the same way.
Before I had babies, I had time. I had energy. I had a lot more money to spend just on me. I went out with my friends with nothing but my work schedule to answer to. I had dreams that were really all about me. Why would I give that up? To be frank, I wasn't so desperate to. But the first time I saw that tiny Darby jumping bean on the ultrasound screen, everything changed. Three years later, I am scatterbrained. I'm anxious, my muscles are softer, and my back aches from years of baby wearing and carrying. I have the beginnings of crows feet from too many sleepless nights and 18 months of pregnancy spent sleeping on my side and squishing my face against a pillow case. Half the time, I eat my meals cold because some small creature needs to be fed first. I have a website waiting too many weeks to be built and dreams that are on the wait list because my babies just won't nap right now.
And I've never been happier, truly. All those other things just don't matter as much. Okay, let's tell the truth. There are days when I would love to just put on nice clothes without worrying about being spit up on, drink cocktails and talk about travel instead of children. There are days when I would love to just go anywhere by myself. There are days when I don't feel happy every single moment. But, I'm whole. I'm stronger and more real and more in touch with a level of suffering and joy than I ever was before. I love and my world is centered around that love and it's really, really good.
Whatever you believe, part of Christmas is about a story; an ancient story of motherhood. Of embarking on an adventure that wasn't asked for, of giving birth to a life that would change everything. I get that. A baby changes everything.
A baby changes everything. A friend of mine is having her first baby next month and I see her and smile that knowing smile. Everything is about to change. Babies rip you apart and sew you back together in a much messier and more beautiful way than you can imagine. There's beauty in the brokenness, they say. Motherhood is insane...and rich. You offer up your body, (or endure months of waiting, wishing and hoping if you adopt), your right to sleep, your right to use two hands at the same time at any given time. You find yourself worrying about everything. You love them beyond anything you have ever experienced or could ever dream of, knowing that they will never love you back exactly the same way.
Before I had babies, I had time. I had energy. I had a lot more money to spend just on me. I went out with my friends with nothing but my work schedule to answer to. I had dreams that were really all about me. Why would I give that up? To be frank, I wasn't so desperate to. But the first time I saw that tiny Darby jumping bean on the ultrasound screen, everything changed. Three years later, I am scatterbrained. I'm anxious, my muscles are softer, and my back aches from years of baby wearing and carrying. I have the beginnings of crows feet from too many sleepless nights and 18 months of pregnancy spent sleeping on my side and squishing my face against a pillow case. Half the time, I eat my meals cold because some small creature needs to be fed first. I have a website waiting too many weeks to be built and dreams that are on the wait list because my babies just won't nap right now.
And I've never been happier, truly. All those other things just don't matter as much. Okay, let's tell the truth. There are days when I would love to just put on nice clothes without worrying about being spit up on, drink cocktails and talk about travel instead of children. There are days when I would love to just go anywhere by myself. There are days when I don't feel happy every single moment. But, I'm whole. I'm stronger and more real and more in touch with a level of suffering and joy than I ever was before. I love and my world is centered around that love and it's really, really good.
Whatever you believe, part of Christmas is about a story; an ancient story of motherhood. Of embarking on an adventure that wasn't asked for, of giving birth to a life that would change everything. I get that. A baby changes everything.
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