my thoughts on motherhood

I am writing today in a quiet house. I am home from church with a sinus infection. Sick, and sad, away from my littles and my dear husband. I have spent the morning reading my scriptures, lesson manuals, the Ensign, the chapters for a book group I belong to, and a just-for-fun book. All the while, I have been enjoying and hating the quiet, and thinking of Motherhood.

When I was a little girl, I knew I wanted to be a mother. I loved my dolls and my Barbies and took care of them, dressing them and brushing their hair and organizing their lives just so. I served cute play food from my cute play kitchen and wore my cute dress-up clothes and it was so wonderful! I knew that being a mother for real must be even better.

When I went off to college, I went with the words of my patriarchal blessing ringing in my ears: "get your education so you can teach your children." I thought of these children often, even dreamed of them--real dreams, at night. I looked anxiously for the man who would become my husband and raise these children with me. Eventually I was blessed beyond measure to find him, and we set up our cute home with our cute dishes and our cute food and I knew we would have just the cutest life.

I fell into physical motherhood as easy as falling off a log. I was sick for a good deal of my pregnancies, and labor was hard work, but getting my children here was laughably, ridiculously, unfairly easy. I nursed them easily and well and my precious babies grew fat on what I had to give them,

The physical ease of getting my children here, the sheer simplicity of our remarkably wonderful life hid from me some hard facts: Motherhood is HARD. Motherhood is exhausting, motherhood is frustrating, motherhood is dirty, motherhood is not very cute. This fact has been hammered home to me again and again by the very beings I have created! When a meal I labor to fix is refused with gags and sneers, when clothes I lovingly wash, dry, fold, and put away are wadded up on the floor after 10 minutes of playing in the dirt, when I find an unflushed toilet, I am reminded just how un-cute motherhood can be.

I have, sadly, made motherhood harder on myself sometimes by thinking "this is not how I planned this to be! This is not working out very well for me." When I get selfish, the hardships are magnified ten thousand times. When our family is called by the Lord to move to a new job, seemingly just as I have gotten comfortable, I am heartbroken. When we are given a trial, such as Jed's Autism, I am hurt and wonder what I have done to deserve this. When I look around at a messy house and a busy schedule and feel incredibly overwhelmed, I think "I need a little time for myself. That should solve it all."

After a lot of praying, I felt the Lord pushing me to change the way I think about motherhood. After all, it is what He placed me here to do. So, I began reading the scriptures, focusing particularly on the women. I began with the New Testament, since that is our topic of study for Sunday School this year. I got a note book and when I encounter a new woman, I write her name, or a description of her if she has no name, on the top of the page. And then I write everything I learn about her from the scriptures, and my impressions I receive as I study. And over and over again, the women in the scriptures have shown me the beauty of unselfishness.

Mary, with her simple statement: "how shall this be, seeing I know not a man?" She could have asked Gabriel so many questions--what will happen to me? What will my family think? How will I explain this seeming sin? What will my fiance, that good man, think of me? And yet she didn't think of herself at all, except to clarify a seeming impossibility. Inspiring, beautiful unselfishness.

Elisabeth, who could have required Mary to rejoice with her in a long-hoped-for baby, instead unselfishly greeted her dear cousin as the mother of the Savior. Remarkable unselfishness.

Peter's wife's mother, who, after being healed of a fever, immediately rose from her bed and ministered to the guests. Unwavering unselfishness.

Salome, the mother of James and John, who brought her sons to the seaside so they could be disciples. The Savior warned her that their path would not be easy, and yet she was steadfast throughout His lifetime. So unselfish, to send her precious sons to follow the Savior through hardship.

There are so many, many more women in the Scriptures who inspire me with their unselfish mothering. And many more that I have been privileged to know personally, women who have mothered me and taught me about mothering intentionally, patiently, tirelessly, sacrificing everything for their children.

Lately I have been going through a refiner's fire, having my innermost beliefs called into question very publicly in such a hurtful way. Something that I thought the Lord had called me to do, something that I thought I was doing well, was pulled away, leaving me raw and red and hurting. Somewhat broken, truthfully, because what I was doing, was helping mothers. Helping mothers come closer to our Savior, Jesus Christ. Helping mothers see their potential as hands that are shaping the world, one marvelous little person at a time. At this time, the Lord held up a mirror to me and said "are you helping these mothers at the expense of your own family? Search your heart and see. This thing that I asked you to do for a season may be ending, but your family is eternal. These darling, trying, amazing, frustrating, fabulous people deserve your heart and your love for always. This wonderful thing, this service you have been giving, is so needed. But let's push pause on that for a minute and get you back to your little sphere, and serve unselfishly there."

When I mother unselfishly, remarkable things happen. I am filled with joy! I find myself feeling exactly as I did when I was a little girl--the smallest, simplest things are so cute and so fun, because I am doing what I am made to do. Everything is not perfect, because life is not perfect, but it is easier to look at the hard things and laugh.

So, this Mother's Day, I challenge myself to be less selfish. Less selfish with my time, with my talents, with my desires. I don't have to look at Pinterest for 10 minutes when I could be reading to my children. I don't have to be sewing something to sell when I could be singing with my sons. I don't have to sigh and say "I just need to get away from it all" because I have it all already--exactly what I always dreamed of having. I am a Mother.