Something about me that most people don’t know is that I have dreams and the next morning, I seem to remember many of them in detail (thought they don’t make sense most of the time!).
Last night I dreamt I was 7 months pregnant. We were expecting a baby boy and were setting up our new home for the newest addition to our family. Our baby was born prematurely and was kept away from me for days but in the end it was all fine. Our baby was most perfect with his ten little fingers and ten little toes. He was our baby and I was his mother. He had my looks but had his father’s eyes and nose. Everyone in the family came to see him when we got him home for the first time. We put him down in his crib and doted on him. I felt blessed.
My dream reminded me about this post I read on my babycentre forum a few days ago and I thought I should share here. This lady has so aptly put what most of us feel about being mothers but are probably unable to put into words…
There are women that become mothers without effort, without thought, without patience or loss and though they are good mothers and love their children, I know that I will be better. I will be better not because of genetics, or money, or that I have read more books but because:
I have struggled and toiled for this child. I have longed and waited. I have cried and prayed. I have endured and planned over and over again. Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.
I will notice everything about my child. I will take time to watch my child sleep, explore and discover. I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life. I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold, and feed him, and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot, or cry tears of a broken dream. My dream will be crying for me.
I count myself lucky in this sense: that God has given me this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child that my friends will not see. Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love.
I will be a better mother for all that I have endured.
I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend, and sister because I have known pain.
I know disillusionment, as I have been betrayed by my own body.
I have been tried by fire and hell many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.
I have prevailed.
I have succeeded.
I have won.
So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort. I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.
And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely.
I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth and that life is beyond hard. I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes.
I have learned to appreciate life.
Yes, I will be a wonderful mother.