I wrote this for the May newsletter for FaCE LA (homeschool group in Los Angeles)
In college I remember having a conversation with my friend and the both of us thinking that we would be good parents of a child with Down syndrome. We were both earning our teaching credential and working in the campus preschool together. This was one of the only times I remember thinking about being a mom prior to the birth of my children. Four years later I was actually a bit surprised when my first baby was born with an extra twenty-first chromosome. Shocked, really. My pregnancy was nearly text-book; I was young, healthy, and athletic. I swam 3 days a week on a long course masters swim team, I even went to Nationals 17 weeks pregnant. Every prenatal test was negative. Yet there she was.
I left the working world, said goodbye to my students and became a mother. I was never one of those girls who fantasized about having babies. I never dreampt about my wedding, never thought much about how many children I wanted. Despite having never really put much thought into the role, I threw myself into it, and was surprised at how strongly I started to feel about my baby and my role in her life.
I simply could not imagine going back to work and leaving her with someone else. Not even for a few hours once a week. I was shocked at how important breastfeeding became. I could not bear the thought of anyone, any teacher, thinking my child could not do something. I think this must have been the first seeds of home schooling being planted, though I didn’t know that at the time.
My mother bear instinct can be a bit over the top at times.. I want to not only protect my children, but I also want them to learn how to stand up for themselves. I want them to learn how to be good people. I want them to love life and learning. I want them to know that they can do anything. I want to be their example.
Six years and three children later I continue to be shocked by motherhood. I always told my husband that two children would be my limit. He wanted three. Guess who ended up talking him into having number three. While I loved my daughter and son, I didn’t feel complete. Our family didn’t feel complete. We had our third and planned to give it a year or so before making any decisions on a fourth. Valentines Day 2005 told us that we really were not the ones in control of how many kids we’d have. Our fourth came in October and truly completes our family.
I love being a mom. I honestly cannot imagine my life any other way. I love spending my days with my children. I love watching them discover and learn. I love watching them play together. I love how the older three adore the baby. I worry that Emma has a higher chance of developing a variety of diseases. I worry that Owen is too sensitive. I worry that Evan will not be able to eat fruit. I don’t worry about Olivia, yet.
When you have more than one child, you begin to have the same questions asked of you, or comments made to you every time you go out. Do I have “my hands full”? Absolutely. Do they “keep me busy”? Everyday. My heart is just as full as my hands, and I don’t ever wonder what I will do with my day. I don’t marvel at my ability to have “so many”, but wonder about those who want none. Some days I “don’t know how I do it” either. How does anyone? You just do.
Motherhood fits me better than any profession I can think of. Motherhood is harder than anything I have ever had to do in my life. Motherhood is sacrificing for the greater good of the family. Motherhood is full of worry, especially when the odds are tilted the wrong way. Motherhood is my joy, my passion and my calling. I love that I have four children that call me “mom”.