I've tried to write this post a few times. It's about things that a very dear to my heart, things that are sacred to me, and things that are very much a part of me. I want it to sound that way. I want it to be well written and profound. But I don't have the right words.
My journey to becoming a mother was incredible to me. I always knew I would someday be a mother, and I always wanted to have children. But I used to wonder if I could really handle it. I loved my nieces and nephews, but there would inevitably come a point when I was watching them that I became very ready to turn them back over to their parents. You obviously can't do that when the kids are your own. But when the Lord let us know our turn was coming soon, the worries melted away.
It didn't take long to conceive, and the timing was pretty much perfection. The queasy first trimester was in the summer, when I had a pretty flexible and not too demanding schedule. I felt much better by the time my student teaching started. It was possible (though never pleasant) for me to get up and get going in the morning. The first couple of weeks were really hard for me emotionally, and really it was a tough couple of months for our family, but we got through it and were stronger for it. I finished my official teaching November 30, but wasn't really done until the Christmas concert on December 14. Two weeks later Ethan joined our family.
It sounds very simple when put that way. But there was so much involved. There were so many little things nudging us in the direction the Lord wanted us to go. We definitely felt His hand in our lives during that time. I felt like our eyes were opened to the miracle that was happening within me. I didn't mind the discomforts because it would result in something wonderful. And Terral was always so sweet and thoughtful. He did all he could for my comfort.
The first few months of Ethan's life were the happiest in my life up to this point. It wasn't a fleeting happiness. It was a happiness that I knew had heavenly--eternal--connections.
The day he was born, I was surprised at how matter-of-fact I felt. I didn't experience a wash of joy, euphoria, or love. I did have joy and love, but it was more quiet than I had expected. The joy and love grew, and they continued to grow.
I was so very content with life those first few months. There were hard things during that time too, but I felt as though our little family was right where we needed to be. I felt a foundation of faith. I felt so much more complete than I ever had before. I wish I could convey that feeling of rightness. We were so blessed, and we were so grateful for those blessings. (By putting this in the past tense, I don't mean to say that we are no longer content, happy, blessed, or grateful anymore. It was just so continuous during that time. Now, life has returned to more of a "normal" state, and worldly cares and worries have crept back in.)
In his baby blessing, Ethan was blessed that he would live a life of service. He started at a very young age. He has been an instrument of healing and teaching. I am truly privileged to call him my son. He is my son, and yet he is not mine. He is God's son. I knew that before I became I mother, but I understand it so much more now. I thank my Heavenly Father for His guidance in my life, and for the role He has given me. The creation of life is divine, and I will be forever amazed and humbled that I am able to take part in it.