A post by my friend Jesse has got me thinking about what it truly means to be a mother. There are days of sacrifice, frustration, heartbreak, joy, love and learning to be selfless, putting someone else's needs before your own. It's hard. Motherhood is not the Betty Crocker/Carole Brady/Caroline Ingalls image I had imagined it would be. There are days I hate it, wonder if I made the right decision in my life to become a mother. I'm not very good at being selfless sometimes, there are days I have absolutely no patience, but most days I'm extremely grateful for the beautiful girls I have. It's hard to think back sometimes and remember where you came from, but I remember vividly, like it was yesterday, the nights I cried myself to sleep because I didn't know why I couldn't stay pregnant. I was so despondent at one point, I considered divorcing Shane so that he could have children with someone who wasn't broken. I wanted my children more than anything and I had to fight every step of the way to get them. Eight pregnancies with nine babies and only two left on this earth. It's been heartbreaking. It's also been the best thing I've ever done. I am so thankful Shane never gave up on us, on me. I love my husband more than anything, and I ache at times that our son is no longer here. Shane loves his girls, but Calvin was his dream of parenthood, his boy. I feel sometimes that if I were a stronger woman, I would have held off getting my tubal ligation, held off until we knew Calvin would be alright or not. I couldn't. I couldn't stand the thought of one more failure, of one more heartbreak.
I found this song awhile back on YouTube, I think it sums up perfectly how I feel.
It Takes a Village
1 day ago