I have been thinking a lot lately about the "curse of Eve." When I am pregnant especially I think about how creative God got in his curse. Physically, the sheer amount of weird things that happen to a woman's body during pregnancy is beyond what my own imagination could conjure up. One thing that has been really striking me is that to every negative thing about motherhood there is an unbelievably positive right behind it- softening the blow. As uncomfortable as it is to be pregnant, nothing matches the feeling of your child growing and kicking and stretching and simply being inside. Childbirth itself is beyond painful. In some cases, the child is literally ripped out of a woman's body and yet (at least in my own experience) I feel happy afterwards. I WANT to have another baby despite knowing the pain and discomfort I will experience getting there. As they get older, there are plenty of the same double edged sword that makes up motherhood. I remember how excited I was for Elie to say my name for the first time and how many times since I have yelled "if you say my name ONE more time I am going to scream!" since.
I have a two month old a two year old and a four and a half year old. Being a stay at home mom with small children is exhausting, lonely, and to be honest, sometimes boring. I catch myself some days saying "I just have to get through these next few years and things won't be so hard." Or with Delia, thinking "just a few more months and she'll start sleeping better." Seeing my older two growing so fast has given me pause this time around. Yes, in a few months Delia will be sleeping better but she won't have that newborn smell anymore and she won't stretch in that newborn way with her back arched and her face all squishy.
I hate "Christianese" so this is in no way an attempt at that, but motherhood has taught me so much about the way we are loved. The more I think about it, the more I think that God gave us His "curse." The curse to love someone unconditionally, despite pain, annoyance, discomfort and fear. Despite having to stand there powerlessly watching those we would die for make mistakes and get hurt. Despite being yelled at, complained at, pooped on (metaphorically and otherwise) and ignored.
Wow. That is not at all where I anticipated this blog post to go when I sat down to write it.
