One day, over five years ago, my husband and I made a conscious decision for me to become a stay at home mother with the birth of our next child. This was by no means his push, it was completely mine. Being a mom who did the majority of the cooking, cleaning and child-raising were wearing on me and I was just tired.
More than that, I was an awful wife.
And I probably wasn’t that great of a mother.
My husband worked long hours and made it home most nights to put our son to bed.
For me, it was too much.
Even before staying home, I knew my life would change.
The day started out just like no other. I woke up, dressed, dressed my son. I was a little off, tired, drained, but chalked it up to a short night of sleep.
Then something new happened.
I walked from my front door to my car and was completely winded. I had to catch my breath before I started the car. A walk no more than 100 feet had completely winded me, a walk without stairs or incline, a walk on a cool winter’s morning.
Something was off. Something was different.
The next few days, I continued in exhaustion. No more stairs to my office. Out came the rolling suitcase from the high closet shelf. I couldn’t walk a flight of stairs without breaking a sweat, so I stopped trying.
When I finally took the test, it confirmed what I had already suspected. I was pregnant. (SIDE NOTE: Did you know WalMart sells pregnancy tests for 88 cents? Yeah, they do and I got three, just in case.)
They all confirmed my theory. I was pregnant. After trying for less than a month, we were going to become parents again.
The rest of the pregnancy continued poorly, adding nausea, a never ceasing sweet tooth and massive swelling.
My exhaustion didn’t end either. I came home every day, just awake enough to make my son a sandwich for dinner and take a nap on the couch. The nap almost always turned to bedtime. Luckily my son was pretty self-sufficient and homework was minimal.
I made it through the pregnancy without any medical problems, just major discomfort, only to give birth to a beautiful little girl who would still make my life pretty miserable.
She was momma’s girl. Bee did not want to be held by anyone else, refused to take a bottle and wouldn’t sleep more than 20 minutes on her own. She loved cuddling and nuzzling with me and sleeping with me and playing with me.
Close to her first birthday, she finally decided that she would let the others who loved her into her life, into our circle.
Then we found out another little girl was going to be part of my family.
The exhaustion hadn’t wavered and now there would be three!
I worried, I made plans, we made moves. But now, here they are, my gorgeous girls: Bee and Butterfly.
Growing up, I never considered being a mother, especially not a mother of three, with one in heaven. I have grown mentally, spiritually, and emotionally.
When I started making purposeful decisions for people who weren’t me, I understood when I was being selfish and when I wasn’t.
These blessings have changed my life for the better and I would never want anything different.
This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post. The sentence is “When it comes to blessings…” and it’s an extra-special week because we’re linking up with the Blessings Month with Tuesday Ten and #1000Speaks for Compassion. Write about “When it comes to blessings…” or Ten Ways I can bless people… or Ten Ways I am Blessed…
The linkup is available from August 4th to 11th (one week), and you can link up with any of our hosts:
Yvonne, Vidya, and Michelle (the blessings thinker-upper) for #1000Speaks
Rabia and Lisa for their Tuesday Ten
and me, for Finish the Sentence Friday