{"id":8496,"date":"2018-08-28T00:02:04","date_gmt":"2018-08-28T06:02:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.mops.org\/?p=8496"},"modified":"2018-08-28T00:02:04","modified_gmt":"2018-08-28T06:02:04","slug":"holy-work-motherhood","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/holy-work-motherhood\/","title":{"rendered":"The Holy Work of Motherhood"},"content":{"rendered":"

Lying on a cold, hard doctor\u2019s table in the middle of the night, too scared to utter a cohesive sentence, I began bartering with God. If only he\u2019d allow this child to live to term. If only he\u2019d stop my sudden bleeding and keep her safe, healthy and strong.<\/p>\n

If he\u2019d protect this baby, I\u2019d give her back to him. I\u2019d parent with passion and focus, cherishing every moment like the priceless gift it was.<\/p>\n

Prior to conceiving, I\u2019d wanted to be a mother so badly, there were times my heart literally hurt. So how was it, less than three years after that agonizing night when I pleaded for her life, I felt as if I was losing mine? Sitting on a hard, tile floor in a much-too-large and oppressively silent house, trying to stir up the enthusiasm to play Polly Pockets for the 100th time that week, I felt insignificant. Invisible. And \u2026 common.<\/p>\n

How I longed for adult conversation, to actually stay on top of a to-do list, and to have that list comprise of more than washing laundry, cleaning lunch spills, and tossing toys back into their baskets.<\/p>\n

I knew<\/em> every second we spent in \u201cfloor time\u201d was a holy moment. I believed our story times, snuggles and playdates created an unshakable foundation that would carry her through the rough and uncertain teen years and into adulthood. But sometimes, like when the \u201csuccessful\u201d women in my neighborhood caught me unshowered and in stained sweatpants at 6 p.m. or peppered me with questions regarding, \u201cjust how\u201d I spent my time, I forgot.<\/p>\n

In those moments, I allowed the unintended barbs and my constant insecurities to dull my vision. My desire to please others \u2013 to look good and smart and valuable in their eyes \u2013 stole my passion.<\/p>\n

In essence, stole that very gift I\u2019d begged God, during that emergency doctor visit, not to take from me.<\/p>\n

One negative, self-defeating thought after another, I began to lose the very core of who I was, what made me me<\/em>. Until one afternoon, I said, \u201cNo more!\u201d I refused to give strangers and acquaintances, or even friends and family, power over my emotions and my day. I chose to focus on truth instead. I began tucking verses and encouraging phrases in my pocket. I pulled them out whenever that inner battle arose, and I reminded myself, again and again, of those things I knew to be true:<\/p>\n