Room to breathe

Anyone who knows me would have to know how thankful I am to be a mother.  Before Big J entered our lives there was a long 2 1/2 years when we wondered if we would ever be blessed with a child.  After all of the rounds of fertility drugs, negative pregnancy tests and unanswered prayers, my pregnancy and safe delivery of Baby J was nothing short of radiant.  We reveled in his very being and my initiation into motherhood was sweet indeed (that's the beauty of looking back from the distance of 13+ years- long forgotten are all the sleepless nights and fussy evenings).

I love babies.  I love all of my babies, the three I got to keep, and the two who now wait for me. But each subsequent pregnancy became increasingly difficult for me, both physically and emotionally. Mothering a newborn while having an older child or children to tend to was not as simple as it was in those first days when there was only one.  I discovered I was not the multi-tasker I thought I was and that my tolerance for sleep deprivation was very, very low.  My kids never lacked for love and affection, but I can look back now and see so many missed opportunities simply because I didn't possess the energy to rise to every single motherhood moment.

Over the past year or so I made the decision that it was time for me to say goodbye to the pursuit of motherhood and to instead embrace the motherhood that is mine.  This came with mixed feelings and more than a few shed tears, but I believe I am beginning to arrive at a place of contentment with this new season.  Not only contentment, but excitement, energy and lots and lots of plans.

Oh, it's not that I haven't always tried to be an intentional mother.  I have and, for the most part, I believe I have done a good job with my kids thus far.  But, as I said, there have been some missed opportunities over the years and I am more than a little revved up about starting to make up for lost time.

One thing I have always wanted to do is to bring more of the liturgical calendar, the Christian calendar, into our daily lives.  Living the seasons of our faith has always been important to me but I have done a poor job of sharing this passion with my children.  Daunted by elaborate craft-oriented parent guides (ugh!) I have allowed my desire for my children to know the rhythm of the church year to fall by the wayside.  No more!

I am beginning to plan now for the seasons of Advent, Christmas and Epiphany.  I have learned from my past errors and know that if I do not plan now it will not happen then.  I am very good at shooting from the hip in some areas, but not this one.  I want our family celebration of these seasons to be meaningful, realistic, and beautiful in its simplicity.  That takes some thought.

One book that is proving to be a lovely way to guide my thoughts is The Circle of Seasons: Meeting God in the church year by Kimberlee Conway Ireton.  This engaging little book is such a nice introduction to understanding the liturgical calendar without going into an unnecessary amount of church history.  It answers very simply how we got from there to here and what we can do now to keep these seasons alive within the fabric of our daily lives.  

As I sat on the couch today reading from The Circle of Seasons, musing about my plans for the season of Advent that is only a few short weeks away, I listened to Pumpkin playing in the other room with her animals and dolls.  Hearing her animated chatter I couldn't help bask a bit in the glow of her rich imagination, her good health, and her very being.  But at the same time it didn't take long to remember what afternoons were like not that long ago when she was a baby. No doubt they were wonderful in their own way and I reveled in her existence then as well.  But there weren't a lot of afternoons spent curled up reading on the couch while she happily entertained herself.  Of course not, that's not what babies are supposed to do.  But she's not a baby anymore and... well, I'm a little bit thankful for that (if that's okay to say).

There's just a little more room to breathe these days.  A little more room to be.  A little more room to dream.  A little more room to plan.  And that little more room feels really, really good right now.

I'm thankful.