I am not the same person I was seven years ago.
It isn’t that I have changed exactly, it is just that weight of motherhood resting on my very core, pushed most of me to the edges, to the extremes.
I am a polarized version of what I once was.
Life seems somehow heavier, sadder, worse. Simultaneously I feel lighter, happier, like the world is full of only beautiful things.
I laugh more than I ever did before but I cry more too. For my babies, for yours, for the babies without a mamma to cry for them.
I did not know I had a temper before they arrived, I couldn’t imagine being capable of child abuse before and now…I can. At the same time, it is even more unfathomable than ever. I am much more gentle than I thought I was, less calloused, less caustic.
I thought I was a patient person before they helped me to find the end of it. And now? They’ve drilled me and my patience runs to wells and depths I wouldn’t have imagined I needed.
I’ve never felt like I’ve failed at anything like I’ve failed these children. Also? I’ve never been so proud of anything I’ve done in my whole life.
Things seemed more complex before my little people arrived. Now loving God and man seems like PLENTY.
My tongue seemed to sharpen equally but paradoxically to the softness of their skin. My heart seemed to grow to accommodate the whole of them.
And then the sweetest part…there in the middle where they weigh on me the heaviest, where I feel like I am near worn through to nothing? That place where things get thin? I’ve seen Jesus there more than I thought would be possible this side of heaven.
And that has been the greatest gift.