My biggest dream, deepest desire, is to be a mother, to be God's hands on earth. My Husband and I have two precious angels in our home, sleeping this very moment, or so I hope in our daughters case, haha. There isn't a certain number of children we plan to stop at. Until the spirit no longer whispers there is another piece of our family up there, we will keep having these sweet babies. I know that there are so many of Heavenly Father's spirit children, just waiting for their turn on earth. I want them, I want them to be mine because my heart needs them. Whether or not my body can bring ALL those spirit children waiting their turn, into this world, is yet to be determined, haha. But more seriously than I had ever expected or thought or imagined, this mothering business, is not for the faint of heart. I have discovered that my heart was not completely prepared for this duty, desire, dream I've always longed for.
The beautiful dark haired, hazel brown eyed, angel I spoke of previously, who may or may not be asleep in her room, our little Grace Noelle, was given to me for a reason. That reason as well, is yet to be fully determined, haha. Though I have had many spiritual confirmations that she was given to me, to teach ME how to love like Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love.
My heart has been broken with guilt, broken with fear. Guilt that I've spanked my daughter, guilt that I've not taken her outside enough, guilt that she's only two years old and my expectations of her are so high. Fear that she'll remember when I yelled at her, fear that she'll never forgive me for walking away from a catastrophic melt down when she needed me most and I just couldn't handle it.
Sometimes, at the end of the day, I sit in our rocking chair and regret everything that I did that day as her mother. I wonder why I'm failing, what need is not being met in her little heart that I just can't seem to figure out? Why is my love for her so incredibly big that I don't know how it fits inside of me, but at the same time my lack of understanding her and who she is, overflows out of me too?
There is a piece of this picture that I know is in there, deep inside both of our hearts that is going to take some time to dig out. Maybe she is my daughter not because of what I can change and mold out of her, but what she is going to change and mold out of me.
Everyday she teaches me how to forgive. On one particularly grueling day full of more downs than ups, my sweet little girl had pulled my apron strings so tight I felt like I was barely breathing. That night she fought me when it was time for bed. By the way she was acting you would have thought her toothpaste was poison and her diaper was a straight jacket. She went to bed without a song or a prayer out of me.
When all was said and done, our little Hudson was sleeping and I had a few minutes to brush my own teeth and get into my pajamas. The spirit quickly whispered to me, that I needed to go into her room and apologize for reacting harshly to her tantrums. I didn't want to, you would have thought me the toddler. Though being prompted by the Spirit to do so, I became more willing. As I entered her bedroom, she greeted me with a smile. I walked to her and sat on the edge of her bed. I stretched out my arms and asked her if she'd give me a hug. She did, though I couldn't get her to answer the one question my heart needed to know. "Do you know mommy loves you?" She began babbling and pointing to things in her room, I asked her again, "Do you know mommy loves you?" Without getting an answer I looked into her sweet two year old face and said "Mommy loves you so much, and I'm sorry we had such a rough day. I'm sorry mommy yelled and got upset."
It was like she had aged 20 years in the 5 seconds our eyes met. She looked back at me and asked "mommy is sorry?" As the tears flooded down my cheeks I replied "yes, mommy is so sorry." No sooner had the words come out of my mouth, her arms were around my neck and her sweet voice whispering in my ear "Thank you, mommy."
We sang songs and rocked in the chair until the Playlist in my head no longer had a tune to play. I sat with my eyes locked into hers, without a warning her soft little toddler hand was on my cheek, with another "Thank you, mommy" on her lips. I'd never felt such forgiveness, not from anyone except Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
How on earth was she willing to forgive me so easily? I believe it was because it didn't come from any earthly place. Her forgiveness, her love, was that of Heaven. Maybe, just maybe, she will be able to forgive all of my future shortcomings as I navigate this journey of motherhood. And maybe, just maybe, with her love and her teaching, I won't turn out to be half as bad at this job as I think I am.
