I feel like in some ways this pregnancy has been shrouded in a haze of too much going on. Every once in a while I think . . . I need to pay better attention.
Better attention to my body – how it’s growing, and moving and changing.
Better attention to the wiggles of a baby boy inside.
Better attention to the feelings of a mother anticipating a new one.
And I think about how motherhood is a gift. It’s complicated. It’s not all sunshine and roses. It’s not just sitting at the pool without a care in the world.
Motherhood is sacrifice.
Sacrifice of my body, my time, my energy, my own ambitions.
Motherhood is also blessings.
Like the blessing of knowing your own limits, and then being given that gentle reprive when they all finally fall asleep.
Like the blessing of being kissed a hundred times a day. And when you tell your son “you’re a great kid” he responds in kind – “you’re a great mom.”
And the big blessings too, like the eternal blessings. The one’s I don’t really comprehend, but I’m counting on.
And, the most exciting part of bringing a new baby to the family: childbirth.
I love having babies. Like, the process of childbirth . . . I love that part.
And I know, I know, I’ve had easy deliveries, so I don’t understand the women who really really go through it, and subsequently hate it. I’m not comparing myself to them.
But I find the miracle of bringing that baby through the veil akin to any priesthood ordinance my husband may ever perform on our children’s behalf. The honor that my Heavenly Parents bestow on me, as a daughter, and as a mother, to be the one to reach through the veil and usher a child to the earth, where they can continue in their progression of following the Savior (whom they chose to follow before the Earth was), is astounding. I can hardly bear the beauty, and certainly won’t ever fully understand the significance in this life. But I have some small feeling toward it, and it fills me with gratitude.
And I’m eagerly anticipating that experience again . . . hopefully within the next ten days.