Her internship ended with an exhausting 10-hour drive home that had started at midnight. After four long months without seeing each other, I had parked myself at the top of our driveway, jittery and eager to spot her the second she rounded the corner. Her car was barely in park when she flung open the door; instantly we became a human tangle.
“You look beautiful, baby!” I declare to her and the world.
And she says, “Mama, you’re so skinny!”
Words avalanche. I’ve missed so much, and she has lots to tell; a day’s worth is just the beginning.
Our eyes fill with tears half a dozen times. Revelation and revolution will do that.
She could barely keep her eyes open during dinner, that long night’s drive catching up. We shoo her to bed.
“Want me to tuck you in? Sing to you?”
We both laugh and she says, “Sunshine.”
“Dun-dine . . .” I hear it the way she said it at three. She burrows under her covers and scoots to the far edge, a silent invitation.
We’re fleshy spoons, and she’s purring while my nails draw hearts on her back. “That feels so good.” I can barely hear, her words lost in a pillowy muffler.
My babygirl is home! All day long I haven’t been able to stop looking at her, touching her, talking with and listening to this familiar stranger in my daughter’s body.
She looks the same and different; her inside has grown so much I can tell it on the outside.
I remember when my hand covered her entire newborn back. How is it possible 20 years separate then and now?! I wish my superpower was not blinking.
“I’m astounded by the miracle of it,” I whisper. “It’s almost unimaginable that you lived inside me for nine months, never breathing oxygen, never seeing light.” She doesn’t say anything, and I’m transfixed by my own thoughts. “And then you were born, and I sustained you with my body for nine more months.”
A mother is a miracle-incubating life and then sustaining it after birth.
I say that out loud — I actually say those stilted words to describe the greatest wonder on earth.
“And the thing is, I don’t remember.” Her words soft and sleepy. “Babies don’t even remember or know or appreciate what their mothers did for them.”
“No, they don’t.” I hear the tiredness in her voice, so I leave it at that and kiss her shoulder goodnight. I don’t want to leave but I do.
This was years ago but I remember it like yesterday.
This weekend will mark Mother’s Day, a time that typically swirls me into thoughts about motherhood. That year, though, even more so, given the timing of my daughter’s return home.
I always think about the void from losing my own mother so young, she at 38 and me only nine, her powerful impact in my life despite such a short time of knowing her.
I’m particularly thankful for my mother-in-law, a woman bound to me by prayer before she even knew me, a woman of valor who has taught me so much simply by being true to who she is and loving me well.
I can’t help but think about my own babies. They slay me. I look on each with wonder and awe, amazed at who they’re becoming and humbled I get to be their mom.
The truth is because we’re complex people, our relationships are complex. Imperfect.
There have been times I’ve wanted to run away from home, when I’ve been exasperated to exhaustion, when I was desperate for help, when I couldn’t tie one more shoe or wipe one more behind or listen to one more spelling list.
And yet, I’d give my life for my children. They have taught me that kind of love. They’ve revealed my flaws, my selfish tendencies, my need to control.
My children have changed me for the better.
Mother’s Day is when I think most about Mary and Jesus — not at Christmas, not at Easter, but now. When I’m contemplating my role as mother I can most identify with Mary. We share a bond, a kinship, a sisterhood, this carrying of life within and without.
But I can’t imagine what she had to endure as mother to the Messiah. That’s for her alone, though my heart shudders . . . shatters . . . to imagine walking in her sandals. God’s favor over her came at great price. God is genderless, but I don’t understand what that means. He created male and female distinct but in His image, and I don’t fully understand what that means, either.
I’m good with the mysteries of God, though; my inability to comprehend Him and His ways nurture my faith more than the things I can grasp.
Since having children, I’ve pitied men. That’s mostly tongue-in-cheek, but they will never know the glory of carrying a life, the sensation of a baby kicking from the inside, the incredible pain but inexpressible joy of giving birth. It is impossible for a man to understand the invisible tether that exists between mother and child, how it feels for our hearts to beat outside our bodies, how we’re able to read our children in a language impossible for them to translate. Ever.
The disservice to mothers is forgetting they are miracle workers.
A mother’s body is designed to create, nurture, sustain, and impact life, before and after birth. Every person alive is a miracle, together with the one who carried him/her.
Before there was time as we know it, the Divine imagined women to be carriers of life, imaged after God who created first life.
There’s an irony in the weaker vessel being the one designated to bear children, propogate all of life. Is it an evidence of God’s favor towards women?
The answer really doesn’t matter; in fact, that’s probably not even the right question to ask.
The challenge is always to remember the marvel of motherhood and the miracle work of a mother.
[linebreak]
Bev @ Walking Well With God says
Robin,
What a beautiful tribute to motherhood…being a mom is the hardest, most difficult, and painful job I have ever had. It is also the most sweet, rewarding, and love filled job. A child can both pierce and elate a mother’s heart. I’ve experienced both. Yet, it’s a love that never fails, never quits, never gives up hope. Mothers are made in God’s image and I’m so thankful for this side of God.
Blessings to you on Mother’s Day and always,
Bev
Robin Dance says
🙂 Blessings to YOU, too, Bev. And thank you…I can tell we both review motherhood as a holy estate. I am convinced there is no harder, better “job” on the planet <3.
Southern Gal says
Beautiful.
Robin Dance says
As are YOU, Southern Gal. <3
Michele Morin says
Robin, this is glorious! A Happy Mother’s Day blessing in every way!
Robin Dance says
To you, too, Michele :).
Penny says
Robin ,
This was a beautiful post and as I read it I was reminded of how miraculous Motherhood is. What a gift to be trusted to care for another.
It also reminded me of my Mother and of the day I had to let go. Moving forward I fully appreciate how much she taught me to grow and what a blessing she was. It’s also helped me to understand that for some it’s not like that and they might need a little extra reaching out.
Have a blessed Mother’s Day,
Penny
Robin Dance says
Penny!! I’m SO thankful you came back and commented again a second time because somehow I miss your (and Michele’s) earlier comments. Go figure–not sure how that happened. I HOPE you didn’t think I took it the wrong way!! I really didn’t see it until your 2nd comment came in (oopsie!!!) You are SO right…this is a tender time of year for many people, for countless different reasons. To reach out to others and to consider that it can be a difficult day for many is a lovely way to share our love for Christ. Thank you for mentioning that.
Penny says
Robin,
Thank-you, this really meant a lot to me.
Blessings to you,
Penny
Chelsea Jacobs says
This is truly one of the most beautiful things I have ever read.
Robin Dance says
Oh…Chelsea. You have no idea how much that touches my heart. Thank you. xo
LaToya Brown says
Robin, this post is like Sunday dinner; eat good early and allow it to fill you for a long while ’cause there’s enough for more later. Yes, motherhood is miraculous. Before my children I had dreams of being a Boss. I held on to those dreams until I held my baby boy, then those dreams melted away as if they never existed. It scared me. How could someone so tiny change EVERYTHING? And here I am, two more babies later and my dreams of Boss-hood are now for quiet time and an occasional date night with my husband. Lol. Ten years later I am filled with wonder that God allowed me to bring forth life and see that it was good!
Robin Dance says
Your comment made me grin, LaToya. First, that sweet reference to Sunday dinner (love it!), and then to hear how life was changed up for you. Yes, it IS amazing how something so tiny can turn us inside out :).
Linda Kinsman says
What a beautiful way to start my day! Love your post!
Robin Dance says
Linda!! Thank you! I so hope it’s one that encourages others.
JeanneTakenaka says
Robin, what a beautiful post. As I read, I thought about my own journey to motherhood, which includes a body that can’t create. But God . . . He’s is the Giver of all good gifts, and He’s given hubby and me two amazing boys through adoption. Mother’s Day always finds me praying for two women who sacrificed their design as creators to give their children something they couldn’t give at that time. And to give me the gift of motherhood.
I loved the story you shared about your daughter coming home in her twentieth year. You are a blessed mama. 🙂
Robin Dance says
Jeanne, how…if you only could feel the chills your comment gave me. Adoption is the picture of our sisterhood in Christ; so beautiful. Your perspective is precious, and I’m so glad you took time to share your words.
Rebecca Jones says
This is beautiful, I think your mother and mother in law also shine through you. I ‘d like to answer a couple of those questions if I may. God is definitely male, with attributes of both male and female. He created men to love and women to be loved. They are weaker vessels only by physical strength, and we get emotional. Are we favored, absolutely! But so are men, if only we could all love and be loved like Christ loved the church, there are reasons God does things in order. Have a beautiful and blessed Mother’s Day everyone.
Robin Dance says
Thank you, Rebecca 🙂
Renee Swope says
Oh Robin, your words brought tears this morning. I felt like I was there snuggled with my own through your beautiful words. Thank you for helping me remember and savor the miracle of motherhood… whether born in our womb or our hearts – they are a miracle in the making for sure. xoxo
Robin Dance says
Smiling at the thought of you, friend, wishing this was a conversation we were having live and in person–wouldn’t that be wonderful? Babies are such a treasure, known before they take first breath. Now, THAT is a miracle!
Joanne Peterson says
Robin, the sweet, sweet thing is even though the babies may not have a distinct memory, they have what is called implicit memories. Implicit memories are the feelings of either positive or painful feelings based on their experiences, mostly with Mama, since she is very often the primary caretaker.
So, all the loving you’ve done with your babies created this feeling of safety, and love, and nurture with your children as babies helped to mold them and their feelings of love and security now. This relationship is so lovely and obvious as you paint this picture for us with your daughter’s homecoming, and you breathing each other in and the marveling of love and preciousness. Thank you for this beautiful example of the work of love. Blessings, Joanne
Robin Dance says
Your words are always a sweet affirmation of the Father’s love. That is a gift 🙂
Penny says
Robin,
In my earlier post I didn’t express myself very well by saying “some might need extra reaching out”. What I meant by it was, I know of a few women that aren’t being treated well and that I should be reaching out to them more. I apologize if my post from earlier sounded thoughtless.
Thank- you,
Penny
Joanne Peterson says
Penny, I know this was addressed to Robin. But, even thought you felt you hadn’t expressed yourself very well, I understood what you meant. Some do need the extra reaching out to because they didn’t get the deep down love earlier in their lives, or feel the ache of infertility or know they can’t care for their babies, or any other various reasons. Truly thoughtful and kind for you to understand and want to reach out to women who need the love and care. Joanne
Penny says
That’s very gracious of you Joanne, thank-you so much. I really appreciate your reply.
Have a blessed day.
Penny
Robin Dance says
First, thanks for your comment, Joanne :).
And second, PENNY!! You are so kind and gracious to come back and clarify; I truly missed your first comment somehow, and pretty much understood what you were trying to say :). I always try to extend grace in the online world because so much can be misunderstood….or just MISSED like in my case today :).
Penny says
Robin,
I really appreciate your reply and thank-you so much for understanding. It was just me not thinking mine sounded right.
Thank-you so much again,
Penny
Penny says
& Blessings to you,
Penny
Julie Martinez says
Loved this. I’m not a mother, though I have raised spiritual children. But I’ve been blessed to have a beautiful woman of God as my mother. She exemplifies strength strong yet very gentle. Love her so much she turns 80 this year in July and I’m so grateful to have her with me.
Beth Williams says
Robin.
Such a touching story about you and your daughter! Thanks for sharing. I’ve never been a mother-but have been a daughter & caretaker of aging parents. Like mothering, caretaking can be sweet, rewarding, difficult and painful filled job. There are days when you find yourself in pain and worry. Some days are good, joy filled. Your emotions can run the gamut from elation to despair. It is rewarding none the less.
Blessings 🙂