Mommies

I acquired a pregnant Mediterranean Burro recently.  The only information that came with her was: ” I have no idea when she’s due…” I was so excited to be bringing her home I couldn’t sleep.  Seriously, I could not sleep.  I was in the process of building a chicken house and Mama donkey, as we resorted to calling her, upset the whole process.  I was sure she was going to pop any minute and I vowed to not leave her side. I actually got my friend to “sit” with her when I  attended a baby shower.  By day 3 I was ‘over it.’  I wanted my life back.  I whined, I complained. It made me remember back, way way back, to my own pregnancies.  I remember looking at the “sell by” dates on milk and smoked turkey thinking: “By the time this is rotten, my baby will be here!” Okay so it isn’t a flowery analogy, I’m a little off the beaten path so to speak, but you get my drift.

 When we learn we are pregnant, the world shifts.  Everything is based around the due date.  We read, learn, breathe everything baby.  And when they arrive all the research in the world cannot ready us for what I like to call; the dark side.  Ones physical body is wracked with exhaustion.  I personally never knew boobs could get so huge and not self-combust.  Pictures of the nursing mother always seemed so Madonna like, yet I wanted to swear like a sailor when my precious angel would, for lack of a better word, “LATCH ON.”  The sleepless nights slur into weeks, 6 weeks to be exact and that doctor we knew and loved gives  the go ahead for sex again.“Are you kidding?”

Life as we knew it tries to resume a level of normalcy but a lot of the time our ducks refuse to line up.  I’ve heard plenty of pregnant women recite: “Oh this baby is not going to change our lifestyle!”

I’ve learned to bite my tongue until it bleeds while silently thinking, “Let me know how that works for you.”  It’s interesting to read the Facebook status of new moms.  First the build up to birth, then the announcement of the birth, and sorry but I like the pun; the AFTER birth. With this last part comes the complaining about everything from exhaustion to the non invested husband/daddy.

I think sometimes we lose sight of the big picture.  It’s like focussing on the wedding and the honeymoon and forgetting that we vowed a lifetime in this relationship.  When we bring these little people into the world we are committing to raising  responsible adults who will one day be an integral part of his or her community.  Rather than fitting them in to our lives we have to reinvent ourselves to create our family environment.  I hear statements referring to life before kids as “Back when I had a life.” It kind of breaks my heart.

 I read a great book years ago called Calm My Anxious Heart- a woman’s guide to finding contentment (by Linda Dillow).  It quoted from the diary of a woman who had been a missionary in Africa for many years.  She listed 5 points as her prescription for contentment.  It is my hope to live long enough to achieve just the first point:  ”Never allow yourself to complain about anything—not even the weather.”  This from a woman living in primitive conditions in scorching heat.  Some days she would have to bring the thermometer inside because it couldn’t register past 120 degrees without breaking.
 This dirty messy place where we reach the end of our ropes is life. The secret to surviving is to stop trying to live the old life and embrace the snot, poop, puke, endless tears, heart break, disappointment, rage, sticky hugs, slobbery kisses, bed time stories, building forts, and lets not forget that very first unprovoked “Mommy I very love you.”
For just one day I challenge you as I challenge myself:  Complain about nothing… not even your husband  :o)