As a little girl, I used to daydream about motherhood.
What would it be like, I wondered from as far back as I can remember, to be the mommy?
How I hoped I could be like my own mother.
What would it be like to give babies of my own a beautiful life? I could hardly wait to find out.
Back then it felt like forever. Like 30 was a lifetime away and the family I dreamed of would take its sweet time getting to me.
Though I used to (force) Emily to play school, I was always (had to be) the teacher, and I knew I was born to educate others, I more so, with every fiber of my being, wanted to be a mother.
Because this is who I am from my very core, this week was both exciting and torture.
When I’m standing in front of my eighth graders I am teacher. When I am in a room with my colleagues, strong, intelligent women whom I adore and revere, I am achieved.
When my phone rings in the middle of class or a text message pops up because Ruthanne needs to know something about Hudson, or when I hunker down in a tiny room twice a day to pump milk for my four-month-old, my heart is lead.
I suffocate under the desire to be momma.
It is most confusing to be this woman who can tackle new standards, 96 students, papers, grades, lesson plans, and meetings yet feel physically, emotionally, and mentally pulled toward diapers, giggles, and forts made of colored-up cardboard boxes.
I get a little excitement bubbling when I think about teaching this next week, starting a new quarter fresh, and being back at it again, but then there’s Hudson in the monitor needing me, and Cohen saying hilarious things that pulls even harder in the complete opposite direction.
What do you do when you have to be more people than you can handle?
You just do it.
I cry my eyes out, shove the tears back, and make it happen.
Though it hurts, I have no choice in the matter, so instead, I rely on this verse given to me after we lost our first baby from one of my dear friends:
After talking with the oncologist on-call, we were told to watch it, and if it bled again, we’d have to go to the hospital for labs to see where his counts were. Thankfully that never happened.
Tuesday is our next check up and another CBC report will be run.
~Wonderful CBC report. If they are low again, there’s a chance we may have to do an overnight stay
~Chemotherapy continues to fight this cancer
~That he’ll not need any more chemo after his February appointment
~A good week at school trying to juggle mommyhood and teacher
~Our pediatrician, Dr. Kohsla, who checks in on me a few times a week. She doesn’t know what that means to us. She is such a blessing to our boys and our family.
~Hudson nor I caught the flu that ran through the house just a week ago!!
~Dr. Dole, for his honesty, intelligence, and kindness about everything concerning Hudson and our family
~A short work week this week!!
~LexisNexis family for their generosity that left us standing in the kitchen speechless.
~My Bible study on revival…the Lord has so much work to do in my heart!
~Diapers donated with loving hearts in response to my Facebook post. I asked for donations to our Home Care for babies whose parents cannot afford to change their diapers in a timely manner during Chemotherapy. After seeing what it does to Hudson as he is changed every hour, we cannot fathom what those babies go through. We fly through over half a box in the 48 hour period of hourly diaper changes. THANK YOU for your kindness. We pray we can continue to help support those babies in the coming months in a multitude of ways.
Thank you for sharing in this story with us. We pray it can bring you hope if you’re going through something similar.