As I drug my weary body through the house, exhausted from not only the previous twelve hour shift, but also first trimester fatigue, I thought about the fact that today was Mother’s Day. I realized with disappointment that today would be the fourth Mother’s Day in a row that I worked as a nurse rather than spent at home as a mom.
I gazed down at my right wrist, and there rested the dainty, new bracelet my husband had purchased for me on this occasion. It was his gift to me as a token of appreciation for being a mother to his children, and I smiled at the thought. He was sweet, and I could imagine no other parenting partner I would desire to join me in this journey.
I carried my eldest daughter from the couch where she had fallen asleep to the bed where she could be more comfortable, and as I tucked her inside the covers I slipped in too along beside her. The warmth of the comforter felt good on my bare legs, and my heart felt warm also inside my chest. My spirit was elevated as usual by my affections for her, and I lightly traced my finger along the curve of her jaw. So perfect.
I prayed for her as I gazed at her sleeping face, and I thanked God for the opportunity to be her mom here on this earth. In motherhood you worried about your children when you left their side, but I once again reminded myself that she didn’t just belong to me. She belonged to the Lord; I just got to watch her here for Him. That was my gift.
I thought these same thoughts again moments later as I prayed for my spouse. I didn’t worry for our children alone. He worried right along with me, and when decisions needed to be made for our family I could count on him completely. And while he also didn’t belong solely to me, he was my partner and companion in this life. He was also my gift.
I concluded my sober, silent walk-through before leaving for work at my youngest daughter’s head of bed. Her tiny features pointed upward to heaven as she drew deep, restful breaths. I prayed protection, and I prayed for health, but mostly I gave thanksgiving. Thanksgiving for my little gift.
I walked away from my babies on Mother’s Day morning realizing that I chose to work every Mother’s Day, most holidays, and other days of celebration so that I could be afforded the opportunity to be a mother present with my children more often on the other days. Today was the day my motherhood was celebrated, but I reveled in that feeling all the other 364 days.
I looked back down at the lovely, silver bangle on my wrist, and I smiled at that gift. It was wonderful. But more than any outward offering of jewelry or flowers I was most supremely blessed with the role I held in this life. I had been given the gift of motherhood. Another present of life grew in my womb even now, and that was the kind of thing I celebrated.
My growing baby inside me, my beautiful sleeping daughters, and my gracious husband were my true gifts in this life, and on this day. They were the reason I rejoiced today, and I could take that along to work with me. So although I remained exhausted in body, I was renewed in spirit. I was a Mother, and that was the best gift of all to me.