Motherhood,  Writing

sleeping babies

There was this very distinct moment in my first year of motherhood that is still so vivid in my mind. It had been a hard day–one of those days as a new mom where you feel like the quiet and hiddenness is more of a burden than a gift. It seemed like everyone else was out there doing exciting things while my own life was standing still; even the life that I had chosen and dreamed of since I was a little girl, the life that my heart always longed for. I remember saying to God, “I didn’t go to graduate school, I’m not working a high-paying job (or any job for that matter), I’m not traveling the world. I’m 24, married, and a mom. What have I done?”

I don’t know why, but a few seconds later I was walking into my son’s nursery as he was napping and standing beside his crib. I looked down at him and gazed at him for what felt like hours. (If you’ve had a particularly hard day, go watch your babies sleeping…there is nothing so peaceful and powerful in all the world.)

I couldn’t stop staring at him. Marveling at every one of his little features. His long eyelashes, his wide open mouth and the way his cheeks hung so plumply even when he was lying down. This. This is what I’ve done; what my husband and I did with God; what we created by saying yes. I know that God gave me real grace in that moment to see my life as it is: a love letter written by Him, a work of creativity unlike any other in human history. I know that I still feel that grace today and I see just how much I’ve grown as a woman and a mother. How much I feel like myself every day. How much I’d never in a million years trade it for anything.

Last night, Sean and I randomly went into each of the boys’ rooms and watched them sleep for a few minutes. He held my hand and we smiled at each other. And just like that time a couple years ago, I felt this massive wave of wonder wash over me as I looked down at our children. Peace, gratitude, awe. My life is filled to the brim with it, if only I open my eyes and see.

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