Tonight while trying desperately to win a few more minutes before the inevitable bedtime, my Linley was brushing my hair and chatting me up.
I know, I'm a sucker for having my hair played with. Move on.
Anyways, after brushing and rearranging my strands she leans in and says "your hair is so soft mommy... are you part mermaid?" This made my day as well as made me question whether my daughter has ever actually paid attention to what a mermaid looks like and seriously, has she ever checked out her mommy?
Love is blind and it fills me with joy.
I am created to receive this love. Being a mother is what I was created for and I know this. My body relishes swelling with child. My need for sleep is minimal compared to the need to feel my children's breath on my shoulder. I love the dirt kids get in the webbings on their small hands. I love the way their feet smell after playing outside. I love the way "mommy" sounds on their lips and I love the demands that being their mommy has made of me.
Some small demands and some bigger than I had ever imagined.
And lately I am struggling with what being a mommy means now. Linley needs me in big ways but less in the small details like doling out cereal and washing elbows and toes. Piper needs me not at all but once relied on me to even live another day. And my womb remains empty despite my wants and aches that are less fervent only than the prayers I once plead for Pipers life.
I miss Piper. I miss being her mommy. Each time I see her in my minds eye I am filled with an anguish that makes breathing hurt. My heart is not healing, it is crumbling as my days become infinitely more difficult each time I am forced to wake up without the sound of her voice. Nothing smooths me except the fragile grip I have on the Hope of eternity. Only this.
I miss my role as a busy mommy. I miss having my own beloved and desired and blessed children play together. I miss dreaming of chaos and laughter and the bond that siblings have. And mainly in this moment I am once again struck by the knowledge that God is sovereign despite the desire I have to rail against Him and the great griefs He has allowed me to feel.
And I do rail. I rant and extol what I feel I deserve and need and want. I distrust that God will bring to fruition exactly that which He knows to be best for me. And I wonder, often, why He has chosen to take half of my children from my arms without leaving me with the knowledge that my quiver will be filled with others. Not children to take the place of Piper. Not children to compete with my Linley. Never.
But to allow me to be mommy.
To allow me to hear more voices asking for me. More dirt and stickiness. More cuddles and silly stories.
I was made for this.
But never more than I was made to love God in spite of my great disappointment with what I once dreamed of.