Motherhood, or dying to self

There's a lot of sacrifice in motherhood.

If you grow your children, you sacrifice your body to pregnancy. Nothing will ever be the same. If they come to you another way, you give your energy, your plan, your way. 

You give your sleep, your mind to an infant. You learn to train away the anger and the frustration a helpless baby can bring. You learn self-control. 

You give your right to eat when you want. Like sleep, eating is at the mercy of tiny tyrants. 

You give an intrinsic piece of yourself, the mother heart. It takes part of you away from your husband, because you are no longer just a woman, you are a mother. 

You give away privacy, modesty, secrets. They see all. After a few years, they tell all. 

You relinquish the right to be selfish, to look out for number 1, over and over and over. Number 1 changes ownership.

You might give away dreams, the you that was prior to children. Europe or the stage or business doesn't just take a back seat,  it disappears completely in the light of feeding and bathing and changing, and then teaching and learning and loving.

It happens naturally. One day you are this woman, the next day you are another woman. Once in a while, you will miss her, that pre-children you. You will miss her waist size, her smooth skin, her autonomy. But just for a minute. 

The crazy thing is, after they come into your life, they are your life. They consume your heart, your time. There is nothing that compares to loving a child. Nothing. The wildness of the joy will take your breath away. It is a glimpse of the heart of God, this passion. 

I would give anything to be where I am.