Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Achieving Motherhood

When talking to a friend the other day I was sharing a story about a lady with a bunch of little kids, and my friend laughed and said that was funny coming from me since I'm the lady now with a bunch of little kids.  As silly as it sounds I hadn't really thought about that.

I mean I know I have a bunch of kiddos, but that was not always the case.  Now I don't want to misrepresent or anything, but there absolutely was a time when my hands were decidedly less full than they are now.  I love everything about being a mother.  I love that kids provide me with a never ending amount of things to laugh about, and stories to share.  My first foray into motherhood though was a bust.  When my husband and I had been married for six months we felt absolutely certain that the Lord was telling us it was time to start a family.  So we started trying, and got pregnant in short order.  We were over-the-top excited.  I told any and every person who so much as looked in my general direction.  I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.  I was going to be an awesome, hip mom.  It was written in the stars, predestined from the beginning of everything.  I mean I'm awesome at everything...why would motherhood be any different.  My euphoria was not to last though.  At 12 weeks my pregnancy ended.  I was not prepared.  I mean I knew that it had been a possibility, but I didn't think it could happen to me.  Then I had to field all of the well meaning questions that turned into awkward concern.

We were blessed with our oldest daughter a year later, and then our next daughter two years after that.  The miscarriage was just a fluke right?  I had everything all planned out.  A new baby every two years until we reached the half dozen children of my dreams.  Well I'm here to say that plans while awesome do not always go as wanted.  My next two pregnancies both ended at 12 weeks.  That seems to be my doom or bloom week.  When I got pregnant for the sixth time it was immediately after my third miscarriage.  So with that fresh on my mind I don't think I took a full breath until we had passed the 12 week mark, and I truly didn't feel safe until I had seen a happy healthy wiggly thumb sucker at my 20 week ultrasound.  My youngest was 4 though, and my self imposed pattern was off.

In those four years I learned something.  People sometimes say mean stupid things especially it feels like if your children are the same gender.  I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints or what we are more commonly known as, Mormons or LDS.  If it is one thing that LDS people are known for its having a bunch of kids.  Here I only had two, and my youngest wasn't so young anymore.  People from church wondered if we were planning on having more, and would politely asked not knowing, usually, how we had unsuccessfully tried to have more.  Others told me to be grateful for the two I had, and "stop trying for a boy".  Almost all the comments were well meaning, but hurtful none the less.

Two years after my third beautiful daughter was born we welcomed our fourth daughter and two years after that my fifth daughter.  My hands were certainly much more full now, but the desire for more was still there.  So imagine my excitement when I got pregnant again...for the ninth time.  This one wasn't meant to be either, though, and like all the others it ended at 12 weeks.  There is a certain amount of discouragement that is felt when out of 9 pregnancies I only find myself with 5 children running around and generally making my life equal parts mild misery and sky high happiness.

Some might wonder why keep going?  Why deal with the potential of failure and heartache?  I've got some pretty compelling reasons...

When passing on these kinds of genes it is clear that I must make sure that my line continues on. The next generation would be decidedly less cool if my little bits of awesomeness weren't wandering around in it.

The greatest blessings are rarely easy, but are achieved through sorrow and trials.  My five greatest blessings are my ladies, and are the most important things I'll ever do in this life.  They are worth every moment of uncertainty and trials I have had to face, but as full as my hands are now I still remember the not to distant past when that wasn't the case.  So I am grateful now for my mini female horde, and I look forward to adding to it in the future...

Sunday, December 1, 2013

I will not beat my child...

I will not beat my child...when she gets out of bed for the 1000th time claiming that she's about to pee her pants.

I will not beat my child...when she doesn't actually go potty when she's gotten out bed for the 1000th time.

I will not beat my child...when she pours acrylic paint into my carpet (wet wipes will get this out if its still wet, just FYI)

I will not beat my child...when she pours half a gallon of syrup in the office (wet wipes aren't enough to save the carpet from needing a steam clean, just FYI)

I will not beat my child...when she randomly turns up with no clothes on when you know she was dressed five minutes before

I will not beat my child...when she refuses to wear any of her own panties, and will only wear her sister's treasured Rapunzel panties

I will not beat my child...when she is found in the front yard in her birthday suit, and rubber boots

I will not beat my child...when she announces to the entire congregation at church that she needs to go pee

I will not beat my child...when she starts pew hopping at church

I will not beat my child...when she goes ice fishing in my water cup after I just got after her for picking her nose

I will not beat my child...when she uses my shirt as her own personal snot rag

I will not beat my child...when she pours out my brand new bottle of crystal fabric softener

I will not beat my child...when she tries to brush her hair less than 5 minutes after I have fixed it, thus necessitating a redo

I will not beat my child...when she eats three bags of marshmallows on the sly (I'm pretty sure she had help will this one, but she was the sisters' collective scapegoat)

I will love my child...

because she's beautiful fourth daughter who's at that age where pretty much everything she wants to do is going to drive me crazy, and her desire to remain in the nude is frustrating.

I will love my child...when she can't wait to give me hugs and cuddles first thing in the morning.  Only after yelling 'GOOD MORNING' at the top of her lungs roughly 3 inches from my face.

I will love my child...when she amazes me with how much she has learned of her letters and the corresponding ASL sign

I will love my child...when she wants to help me cook dinner

I will love my child...when she wants to put away all the silverware in the dishwasher

I will love my child...when she squeals with excitement when her sisters are playing with her

I will love my child...when she gets super excited about My Little Ponies and can and will tell you all about it

I will love my child...because she's beautiful and she's wonderful and she's mine.