What is the raw truth of motherhood? The truth is, motherhood has opened and exposed me. It has stretched me, and pushed me to the brink. It has forced me (often unwillingly) to see myself, my own truth, the good, the bad, and the ugly. It has changed me, in every way. Being a mother is frustrating, terrifying, infuriating, and heartbreaking. As well as, empowering, exciting, renewing, enlightening, amazing and uplifting. I am the mother of three beautiful children. They are gifts, and I treasure them. I became a mother, in the traditional sense, six years ago with the birth of my first child, Nicholas. I have naturally birthed each of my children, and, each labour and birth was as different as each child. Nicholas, born after a long, inconsistant labour. I was frightened to become a mother, but wanted him so much. My labour matched my emotional state, and Nicholas is my methodical child. He does not waver, but takes his time before trying something
new. He waits. He is my tall, handsome, wise son; my teacher. I am always a new mother with Nic, and he has taught me, forced me even, to trust my instincts, to step into motherhood with confidence and strength. I keep wavering, and he keeps waiting, pushing me slowly but surely. Logan, my secod son, gorgeous, soft and strong. I dealt with a lot of fear about birth during his pregnancy. He gave me the consistent, fast, joyous birth I’d craved. My first homebirth. He stopped breathing shortly after birth, as I clutched him to my body. Before the words got to my mouth our midwife, Kara, whisked him away, and brought him back just as quickly, breathing and well. Logan taught me, and continues to do so, to prepare to be surprised, and to soak up the joyful moments when they present themselves. He surprises me and challenges me to be joyful each day. Bethany, my sweet, stunning daughter. The wild card birth. Throughout my pregnancy, labour and postpartum
period with Beth, I felt inadequate. Inadequate to care for three young children, to mother a daughter, to be chosen by these three precious ones. Why did I deserve such trust and love with all my flaws and mistakes? Bethany was born at home, while her brothers slept in their beds. I was terrified something was wrong, that I’d done something to damage this daughter I’d wanted for so long. The labour was long, and weak. I cried to the women who bore witness to my fears. They listened, supported, and waited with me. My homeopath, Piper gave me a remedy, and my daughter showed her strength. In the next few minutes I birthed her, precious and perfect, into the world. Bethany teaches me grace. Grace while waiting, grace while leaping, trusting I will land safely. Motherhood is raw. It does not come perfectly packaged, it cannot be prepared for, or planned out completely. I see the worst and best of myself through the eyes of my children. Their births only
gave me a glimpse of the challenges ahead. I have met my fears and weaknesses head on with each birth, and have witnessed my own stength and power.
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