Sweet Kelly has a blog hop up today that I decided I just had to post something in honor of: Moms of Multiples. Hey, I’m one of those!
And, actually, I really don’t think of myself as a MOM much anymore. I just have five very different and very closely spaced kids. Ha. Just as a shout out and a much needed pat on the back to all of my fellow MOMs, though…
Yes, the singleton was a breeze by comparison!
I wrote this right before the little one was born:
I’ve been knocking on wood for the past several months after saying things like, “This is gonna be a breeze!” I’m sure “breeze” is a bit of an exaggeration no matter how sweet, and alone, this baby boy is. But today he’s found a fun little bundle of nerves to kick, and I’ve literally dropped to the floor twice. Hmmm, that never happened to me with twins. Oh yeah, they were in there kicking each other!
I kinda miss saying things like, “Don’t make me come in there!” and “Stop crowding your sister!”
At any rate, my blissful dreams of nursing, while baby-wearing, while cooking dinner aren’t exaggerated, right?! I mean, I am a pretty accomplished “nurser,” and I have been known to move around the house with at least one attached infant. I’ve nursed babies in a moving car without taking them out of their carseats. And I’ve never missed a sermon because of babies’ schedules because, well, I just nursed them right there in my seat.
I have four children under four sharing one room, and they all sleep like little pros. Still, I’m afraid that I am somehow going to pay for my overconfidence.
After all, I’ve never had A baby before!
And this one is from a few months after that little bundle was born…
The first time I caressed my sadly unappreciated flat stomach with the knowledge that I was petting my child, I felt like a real mom. We lost that baby a few weeks into the pregnancy, but my maternal soul had already been unleashed.
When they cut me open and
roughly lovingly removed my two firstborns, and I strained to watch in the reflection of the overhead light (because they do not consider that some people are freaks and really don’t appreciate the surgery curtain), I felt like an honest-to-goodness mom.
On the second day of my firstborns’ lives, when I was sick of the nurses’ advice, and I was pretty sure than none of them had ever had children, I felt like a confident and capable mom.
In the second month of my colicky firstborns’ lives, when I hid in the bathroom and screamed at my husband, hoping desperately that someone would take us back to the hospital, I felt like an in-over-my-head mom.
Watching my husband leave, because I told him to, as I held up my heavy with babies belly and watched my barely toddling toddlers play on the floor, I felt like a strong mom.
When my second set was born, and what felt like dozens of nurses applauded as they wheeled the three of us out of the delivery room after only twenty minutes of pushing, I felt like a victorious mom.
The first time we went to church as a family of six, and I realized that a person could actually develop a rash, all over their body, simply because they were trying not to appear stressed, I felt like a scrutinized mom.
Sitting in the WIC office, being yelled at for an underweight baby and treated like a first-time mom, but knowing it was my job to be there because God had told us both that Papa Bear should take an brief break from work, I felt like a desperate mom.
When I earned my first dollar as a stay-at-home-mom, I felt like a helpful mom.
As I baked on the back porch while attempting to potty train my not-nearly-ready firstborns, I felt like a manic mom.
The first time I walked into a public place, without fear of tantrums or regard for rude stares, I felt like an I-have-arrived mom.
When I left the dishes in the sink and the laundry in the washer, and I laid out in the grass to name clouds with my kids, I felt like a born-to-be-a-mom mom.
Surprised by the pain of natural childbirth, and fearing it would actually split me in two, yet grateful to feel every emotion known to man as my perfect singleton arrived, I felt like a conquering mom.
While photographing my dear friend’s birth, with my singleton in tow, I felt like
super mom a very fortunate mom.
When I walked down the street with my kids and looked on with pride as they declared, “You’re beautiful,” to passing strangers, I felt like a successful mom.
And today, when Cuddle Bug prayed a discerning and unsolicited prayer over a guest, I just felt like a mom, in the very best sense of the word.
Oh, and stop back by after the weekend! I have a very twin and extremely special story to share with you – yes, I do still blog. But writing a book is just a little more time consuming that I would have though. Ahem.