Ruth Stoops

…and I still can’t find my words.  Believe it or not, my lack of writing during this time has had less to do with time, and more to do with brain capacity.  But I want/need to try.

Motherhood is INTENSE.  Intense joy, frustration, loneliness, connectedness, love.  Sometimes I feel so clumsy, fumbling around in this new identity with no clue what to do.  Other times I am confident and feel full of maternal grace.  This is my baby.  I know what he needs, who he is, and who we are together.

It has been difficult for me to try and summarize this time.  Do I include the darkness I have experienced?  The ugly, wrenching, exhaustion that left me in tears so many nights?  The doubts, anger, and fear that entered into my mind?  I want to be honest.  I want to be true to myself and my experience.  But I feel guilty saying that it has been hard.  Why?  Because I want everyone to believe - and *I* want to believe - that my love for my son is such a bright sun that no speck of darkness could survive in our home.  It’s not true.  I am a human.  With limits, finite fuses, and needs of my own.  I am finding that the way through this tricky dance is to embrace myself and my son, moving together through this precious and intense time.

Indeed, I need to include the beautiful and wondrous in my summary.  This child, this perfect little being, is such a joy to me.  What a blessing children are!  Even through the endless diapers, spit-up, and late night crying, the gravity of this gift sinks deep.  I want it all - the identity crises, the physical exhaustion, the re-shaping of my life, my marriage, my self.  It is GOOD.  And while I know that I do not need to enjoy every second (who could handle that pressure?!), I am determined to not lose sight of how wonderful this all is.  Losing a child opened my eyes to see my son for the treasure that he is.  I am doing my best to soak him in and eat him up.

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