The day my son was born was nothing short of a miracle

I had just turned 37. My husband and I were 6 months shy of our second wedding anniversary. I had been on strict bed rest for 4 months due to cervical funneling and cervical incompetence. For three hours, I pushed and pushed before he made his appearance. The midwives and nurses urged me to say “hello” to my new baby. But, after he finally shot out, I was so exhausted and weary, I simply wanted a nap.

Prior to his birth, well… prior to the digital “pregnant” on the pregnancy test, my life had been what I had always considered crazy and yet, meaningful

I had a “crazy” first marriage, career, dogs, responsibilities, friendships. You name it. Life was a whirlwind. I would go from being dressed in sweats and a tank, as I worked on my health, eating non-gmo, all natural, organic, non-processed, gluten free, non-dairy, soy free meals; to wearing power suits and heels or trendy flats, boarding a plane to Furniture Market in North Carolina for a week. (For those that do not know. Furniture Market is to North Carolina, as Fashion Week is to Paris.)

There I was, successful and accomplished. I had lost 50 pounds, and fell head over heels in love with a wonderful man after a divorce from my ex. We got engaged on the beach, and then had the wedding of my dreams. 9 months later, I was pregnant.

Up until then, I didn’t know what crazy was

And honestly, bless my ignorant heart, I thought I was losing my mind with deadlines and “what to wears”, while I was finding my soul with clean eating and communicating with God on my walks/run. Truly, I didn’t know what it was to lose my mind. I want to hug that sweet girl who thought she had it rough.

Fast-foward

to latching issues, nipple shields, and cracked nipples; clogged ducts and mastitis; spit up projecting into my mouth and sleeping (or wishing for sleep) for days on end, on sheets that were covered in pee and poop. Some pee may or may not have been from me. No one warned me that I may go potty if I so much as sneezed, laughed, or blinked.

Gone was the girl who ran around checking on production and fulfilling the needs of buyers with multi-million dollar companies.

The new girl in town ran around checking for gas drops or, did he need gripe water? And then… fulfilling the needs of a tiny 7 pound human that could not tell me what would make him happy.

Motherhood can seriously make you feel as if you are about to lose your mind

Honestly, in a way, don’t we? We coo, make silly faces, jump up and down, clap and sing. We can go for days without showers. The stink becomes familiar. Our hair stays in messy buns. The trash truck passes our house for 3 weeks in a row because once again, we forgot to take it to the road.

My thoughts range anywhere from, “isn’t he precious?”, to “what would we do if we were to lose our power indefinitely? What if we were run from our homes by people coming to take over our town? If my son could no longer watch his favorite show or have air conditioning, a proper meal, safe shelter, security?!!??!!!”

And do NOT get me started on the pain that grips your soul if your child gets hurt or sick. Especially, if they were hurt because of something you did. My baby has fallen off the bed. I accidentally clipped his skin the first time I trimmed his nails. The phone has dropped on his head mid-breastfeeding. He has scraped his knee and fallen from learning to walk, more times than I care to admit.

My son’s Pediatrician she said, “If this is the worst that happens, be thankful. Babies are going to get hurt and sometimes we will hurt them unintentionally.

“You are not a bad Mother”

I will forever be thankful for that moment.

Yes, motherhood is a beast. The woman who rocked all the latest fashion trends and had a great paying career? Perhaps she is gone. But in her place?

A woman who has lost her mind and found her soul

The sweet smell of milk on my son’s breath. The weight of his little body on my chest. His tiny foot growing, from fitting in the palm of my hand, to barely being able to wrap a fist around it. When he sleeps in the middle of the bed, his head towards his Daddy and his little stinky feet, that I adore, shoved in my face. The cries and extended arms at 3:00 am, reaching, calling “Maaaama, Maaaaama” even though I lay beside him.

Hearing his laughter and giggles of delight, echoing through the house as he runs to hide. The unexpected moments, when I witness, for the first time, that he has compassion, humor, sadness, joy, and love in his tiny heart.

Out goes the doubt and worry

Every sleepless night, missed or cold meal; every impatient moment, flees in times like these and I realize that nothing has ever been this important in my life. I have never felt more beautiful, 50 pounds heavier. I have never felt more loved, adored, and even spiritual.

Motherhood is beautiful, messy, and meaningful. Our soul is found in the quiet moments when we have to be still, patient, and loving. It is found in the dirty hands that reach out to be held. The cries from nightmares that seek mom’s face and scent.

Our souls are strengthened when we learn to give our hearts away, piece by piece, and we realize we are not in control. We are not in control of our clean house, the bills, the way we look, an uninterrupted night’s sleep. We are not in control of our emotions, our ability to predict how our child will react during a day, or our own vulnerability.

But above all, above the mess and the grace, the perseverance and the race… above he daily grind, feeling we have lost our mind – we find we are whole, because in Motherhood, we have found our soul.

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Rachel Price

Rachel is a mom, writer, & advocate for women at her local crisis pregnancy center. She lives in South Georgia where she raises her son alongside her husband. She is currently in training to become a Certified Breastfeeding Counselor.