When Motherhood Chooses You

I remember sitting around the benched tables of my high school cafeteria. Life stretching long out in front of me and a list of dreams a mile long rattling from my tongue. In all my dreams motherhood was optional. A potential stop along the highway of life. A far off destination somewhere down the road...way down the road.

 It is a windy, rainy afternoon. One that keep me cupping a cup of hot tea and pausing in front of the space heater. It is time to awaken the wee one from her nap. She throws back her head and opens her "to be determined" colored eyes. She furrows her brow and it is like staring into a mirror. I've reached my destination and I can't believe I ever wanted to go anywhere else. I thought that my life would be different. I don't mean power suits and leather brief cases. I just mean that I always wanted my independence. I've got a wandering streak a mile long and my internal GPS has always been set to roam. I've clung tightly to the freedom to go and do as I please. Today we will stay indoors all day away from the winter chill, gray skies and sniffling noses of strangers. I will change countless diapers, wipe puddles of drool, cradle sweet baby sighs and I will not remember how this road got me here. I will only know that in this moment this is where I am. Cosmic grace I think I'll call it. To not know how one got to a place, but to know that it is divine and holy nonetheless.

 You can only run so far from a heart calling. This baby girl woven in love and threaded through my heart is more than a part of my DNA. She is a part of my sanctification. God's choice of her as my daughter is a reflection of His choice of me as His own. Left to my own devices I would choose red rock canyons and airplane flights across oceans. To be stretched body and soul by a wee one is to travel an uncharted course without a map.  I so need a map.

I always wanted to make my own choices. I didn't listen to anyone's suggestions of where to go to college. I hopped a flight to the West just to wander in the woods for six months. I spent a year sleeping under the stars more than sleeping under a roof. I decided that I'd rather watch births than give birth. I danced all around motherhood until finally on the West coast of Africa motherhood chose me.

We talk about women's choice. We have the right to choose what is right for our bodies, our lives, but the truth is that when motherhood chooses you, accept it or reject it, you've been chosen. Inextricably, irreversibly, undeniably you've been chosen and your choice is to embrace it fully or reject it wholly. There is no in between in motherhood. We risk more than our own life if we reject it. Feigned bravery is a life left to worldly adventure. Truth be told it isn't bravery at all. It is avoidance of all that is lasting in this world. Bravery is to choose what is lasting. Like planting a tree in the tender ground of life I am growing into being a mother. Brave work to trust that roots will grow deep and branches will spread long. I am doing holy work that keeps me tethered, body and soul, to this one life. Motherhood, with it's thousand graces has chosen me and I have but one choice in response; grab hold.

Counting the graces of this one life motherhood and all! Counting along with you would be pure joy.

#2191-#2211
baby sighs, midnight cries, early morning kisses, road trips, double naps, going to church for the 1st time, one good night/one bad night, mimis and gigis, curious nieces, precocious nephews, time to pee (ha ha!), pancakes, routines, library books, Valentine's Day, cake, whispering in bed, hot showers (have I listed this a dozen times?), stretch marks, knitted blankets