Motherhood: It’s Far From Glamorous

This morning I awoke from a very light sleep, my shirt drenched in sweat. I was hot. I was sticky. I felt like I hadn’t gotten an ounce of sleep. My back was hurting. The little girl within me was kicking at her space being invaded. But I dare not move and wake the sleeping toddler running a fever of 103.3 laying on top of me. I dare not move and interrupt the sleep that he so desperately needed.

I lay there thinking, this is the hard stuff. This is where you really get into the thick of motherhood and you realize it’s far from glamorous. The sleepless night you endure at thirty weeks pregnant leaving you desperate for caffeine the moment you are able to move. The back to back trips to the pediatricians office because you know them sending you away with the easy label “virus” the day before was far from correct. The waking up drenched in sweat as if you had just finished running a marathon…but the sweat isn’t even yours.

Motherhood. It is far from glamorous.

It’s hard. It’s messy. It’s exhausting.

Motherhood tests you in areas of your life that you never knew could be tested. Motherhood brings things out of you that you never thought were inside of you, the good and the bad. Motherhood brings out the survival instincts of a courageous lion that you never knew were within you. Motherhood creates an entirely new person out of you.

Motherhood will take you where you never would go on your own. Motherhood is the small package in the corner, the one that is damaged and bent and presumably broken. It is wrapped in brown paper, not even a ribbon or bow to make it beautiful. The package in the corner often overlooked just because of it’s packaging.

Yet, motherhood, that ugly wrapped brown package, that far from glamorous thing sitting in the corner; it possesses something worth far more than any word can describe. You can’t experience what motherhood in it’s entirety has to offer without taking everything that’s messy with it.

This morning I awoke from a very light sleep, my shirt drenched in sweat. I was up all night with a very sick toddler. It’s been awhile since he has wanted to cuddle so close to me to sleep. He lays his head on my chest and places his hand on my face to make sure I am still there, staying close to him. He moved and lays his head up on his dad’s shoulder to help him breathe. His labored breathing through the night keeps me from sleeping, the heat off his body acts as a personal heater. He sweetly cries through out the night saying “uh-oh” when he bumps into us or can’t breathe very well.

Motherhood: it’s far from glamorous. It’s this messy kind of beautiful. This chaotic kind of wonderful. This exhausting kind of incredible. This incredibly difficult kind of thing that is just what I was meant for.