I had a significant realization recently. About something troubling.
I complain about blessings. ALL THE TIME.
This sounds ridiculous, but it happens to most of us.
There is a beautiful, crazy, destructive, sweet, tiny human that entered my life almost two years ago. He is an ENORMOUS blessing, but sometimes I forget. Sometimes, I think more about the restrictions on my freedom that come with being a mother. The interruptions that happen with every task I try to accomplish. The inability to simply sit on the couch and rest.
What has been gained in exchange for those small inconveniences? The unconditional love of that precious little boy. Sweet smiles, and tender cuddles. The strengthening of love between my husband and I in raising this beautiful soul together. Watching my son explore the world and discover new things every day is indescribable.
I am so amazingly, ridiculously blessed to be able to have carried a child within my body. We had a healthy pregnancy, and a (mostly) healthy baby. Pregnancy is hard, but the alternative (not having the opportunity) is harder. Motherhood is hard, but not being able to be a mother? I can’t even begin to fathom that pain.
I struggle with finding balance between everything in my life. But how lucky am I to have found so many things in my life that I love that I struggle to juggle them all?
This realization doesn’t fix motherly fatigue and overwhelm. It doesn’t cover the world in rainbows. But recognize your blessings for what they are. Blessings.