In My Falling Short

Your brother turns two in 30 minutes.  I have spent the past several days thinking about this.  His first birthday was a lot about him, about how much he had changed and grown over the course of one magical year.  This second birthday feels like it's a lot more about me.

Don't get me wrong, he's learned to do so many awesome things in the past year.  He's grown and changed, learned and matured, and we will celebrate that.  But when I stop and think about this day 2 years ago, what amazes me more than anything is the change that has taken place in me.

Two years ago I thought I knew what it meant to be Momma.  I rubbed him through my bulging tummy as we settled in to the hospital.  I loved him, I wanted the very best for him, and I had felt my heart get bigger and softer over the course of the 49 weeks and 4 days it took to grow him.  Truthfully, I had no idea.

Now, two years later I have an almost 2 year old and a 3 month old, and I am changed.  I could go on and on and never really, fully capture what it is that I mean to say.  That's just the way it is.  Motherhood is a reformation of the soul, if you allow it to be, and although I am far enough in that I can recognize some ground shaking changes, I'm not far enough to be able to name them and describe them with any clarity.

Here's what I know:  I'm softer now, both inside and out.

My tummy used to be smooth and taut.  Then it stretched and grew to accommodate you two and keep you safe while God did His work in there, putting you together.  Now it's a squishy pillow that you both love to nuzzle in to.  My breasts used to be firm and supple.  They nourished your brother for over a year and continue to provide your every calorie.  They bulge and ache in the morning and grow softer as I feed you through the day.  When I lie down at night they seem most akin to pancakes, and for what it's worth, you appreciate their nourishment just the same.

I used to think I knew things.  I used to have "theories" and ideas about "best practices" for education, for sleep habits, for nutrition.  Now I know that all of the research in the world doesn't much matter when something different is what works best for Momma and baby.  I used to have a plan.  Annual goals, a monthly calendar, a daily schedule.  Now I have a toddler and an infant.  Some days drag on as we struggle to figure each other out, as teeth poke their way through tender gums, as germs cause stuffy noses and disturbed sleep.  Some months fly by as I grasp at fleeting moments of accomplishments and milestones that seem to come one right after the other.

I've learned to withhold judgement far better than I used to.  There were so many things I thought parents were crazy for doing, things that I've now found myself trying, or at least being able to understand.  I've grown to love your daddy even more.  There is nothing quite like watching a big, strong, grown man be so tender with his baby.  It turns me to mush.  Every day when he tickles your brother or sings you a song, I fall ever more in love.  More importantly, I've learned to trust him in a way that I never could have if I hadn't had such precious gifts to share with him.  You and your brother are our joint responsibility, and our relationship has grown so much stronger as we've shared you two.

Above all else, I have grown ever more reliant upon my God.  I know now, more than ever, that I need His guidance, His direction, His love, His forgiveness.  I turn to him so much more now that I have you two to shepherd.  I ask His protection over you both on a daily basis, because I know that you are His.  I know, as hard as it is to understand, that you are merely on loan to me.  That He has entrusted you to the care of your daddy and me.  We need His help, daily, to do best by you both.  And yet, I know that in my "doing my best" I will still fail to give you all that you need.  You need more than me, more than Daddy.  You need Him, too.  And so I pray that where I fail, where Daddy and I fall short, that you will seek God, because He will not fail you.  He will not fall short.  He will provide all of your needs, all of them.  It is only by my faith in Him that I continue to grow in to the mother He intended for me to be to you and your brother.  Pointing you to Him is the only way I manage to maintain my sanity, to keep my hope, because I will never be enough for you, and that's exactly as it should be.  I will never be enough because in my falling short, you are led to His never failing.