A brief glimpse into my history for anyone reading this so you can have a better understanding. This is just me putting my thoughts out there. I have three amazing, fabulous children. I have had four miscarriages, including one at 11 weeks and one at 14 weeks. The most recent, at 14 weeks, was a baby we had tried for, seen moving on the ultrasound and heard the little heartbeat. What a precious sound.
The tremendous blessing that my kids are to me was in no way lost on me following any of my pregnancy losses. I enjoyed being pregnant, 90% of the time. We felt that adding more children to our family could only increase the love we have. By the way, after someone has a miscarriage the #1 thing NOT to say is, “At least you have other children to be grateful for”. It is almost as if you are telling us we should feel guilty for feeling sad and grieving over this child we already loved and couldn’t wait to meet.
But, I digress, I have never felt more grateful for my children than in the last 4-1/2 months. If I never get to be blessed with another I thank God for the three he gave me. What amazing little people He entrusted to my care. They love me even when I can’t find their matching socks and even after I forget to put their favorite snack in their picnic lunch. And, even after they get in trouble are require some level of discipline. I believe I am learning more from my kids than they from me sometimes. I have begun to even more treasure the reading books time, playing hide and seek (there are few things funnier than jumping out and scaring your kids!), and even the mid-night snuggle sessions. I hope they never grow up. I am learning to have more patience (it’s true), appreciate Claire’s unending hilarious stories, being the Decepticons so Quinn can be the good guys , and making Grant laugh till he’s out of breath (despite that I am out of breath too). It is making me work harder to be the kind of parent I hope they grow up to be. It is inspiring me to be the kind of mother that in 20 years they are filled with wonderful, happy memories. Memories of their imperfect but homemade superhero capes, eating cookie cutter sandwiches, picnicking in the living room when it’s raining, getting to sleep in the middle when they need me and getting to splash in those puddles (even though their socks get wet!).
Yes, if there is a ray of light it is that I am even more inspired to be the best mom I can be and soak up this precious time. It is realizing that playing checkers or reading Fancy Nancy or even doing my Elmo impression repeatedly is more important than stressing out over the never-ending laundry, sweeping and dishes piling up than putting off my kids. Yes, this experience is helping to mold me into a Mary.
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