Injuries of Motherhood

There are certain injuries that come with motherhood. I was a really crappy pregnant woman. I complain all of the time about my symptoms and trials. I do, however, admit that the ends definitely justified the means. Here are some of the unpleasant things I went through to get Eli on the other end. I was sick everyday for 3 months. I mean vomiting daily at all times of day. I had unfortunate gas - need I say more. I had a very peculiar snot situation. I had a ton of snot in my nose that made one side clog at night. Then I would get up and blow my nose in the shower and for at least 10 blows, a full load would come out. I got bloody noses all the time. Nothing like a woman with blood stains down her maternity shirt. My legs and feet would cramp in the night, making me feel that my muscles were tearing. I got acne on my chest and back. The worst of all was my appendages swelled. I couldn't wear my watch or rings for 4 months and my feet look like they were from the Flintstones. I wore flip-flops in the winter. Then after 12 hours of labor, there was a child in my arms looking up at me. My first thought was - oh my gosh, why is his head in a point!?

As with any moment of overwhelming emotion, I shut down for the first few days of Eli's life. I went through the motions. It was all new and I didn't know what to do. Everyone was around and I had to lie in a hospital bed while they visited. Slowly, Eli started to seep in through the cracks of my armor.

When I title this injuries of motherhood, I mean some of the physical ones and non-physical. A few days ago, Eli through a board book at me and hit me in the mouth with it. He busted my lip and made me bleed. I was injured. This is classic Eli behavior. He sometimes whacks me with his head so hard, I think my teeth have broken out of my head. So far, they haven't.

I have always had an out-of-proportion soft spot in my heart for animals. I cry when I see dead animals on the side of the road. I can't watch movies with dying animals. I go crazy. I can't handle it. People think I'm crazy. Lately, I've noticed I have added a new entity to that list. Kids. I never liked them before. I always wanted them to leave me alone. Suddenly, when I see starving kids on TV or hear stories about kidnapped kids, I think my heart is going to tear. I was crying when I watch one of those Spike shows there other day that show disasters caught on tape. Some woman was trapped in a flood in a car with her 18-month-old baby. I was almost sobbing at the idea of it. What has happened to me!?

Here is a revealing confession. At one point, I turned to Mark and said, "If ever there is an accident, and we're drowning and we have a kid too, save me. We can always make more kids, but we can't make more Lilys." Isn't that the worst thing you have ever heard? Before I had a child, it was impossible to think I could love one more than myself. The other day, I told Mark, he better save Eli because I will throw myself back in before I let him drown.

Eli has conquered me. I have become soft with him, rocking him to sleep when he wakes up crying, kissing away Owwies, and loving crazy couch time. That little, bratty kid, is my favorite one in all the world and much better than any other child.

I have become as fierce as the mother moose. I know I would run into a burning house to get him. I would beat an intruder bloody if it meant saving him. I know Mark feels the same about this little person. I've lost my logic and my mind, but I've found my heart. And it's held by little, sticky fingers and a snotty nose.

How much this puts in perspective the sacrifice of Jesus... how could the Father watch his only son tortured and crucified...