You Grew A Human


This Mama🐻Monday my dear friend Sarah is offering up some words of encouragement for those of us feeling a little too normal.  Listen up, Mamas!

You grew a human in your body.

You grew a human in your body.

You grew a human in your body.

All the rules of speaking and listening and remembering say that, if you repeat something three times, people will fully embrace the concept and commit it to memory.

You grew a human in your body.

You grew a human in your body.

You grew a human in your body.

Today this is my meditation. May it be yours.

Our world has told us that we need to normalize this fact, that we take it in stride. We have babies with no medicine and are praised; we simultaneously raise children and work without complaint; we fit back into our old jeans within a certain amount of time or else. Don’t get me wrong: Of course are bodies were designed to birth and [sort of] bounce back; and of course mothers have strength and determination beyond recognition.

But every once in awhile, I like to stop and just be in awe of myself. I like to pause and be still and think on what a privilege it is to so closely participate in Creating with my Creator. I like to imagine myself as a piece of artwork, a goddess with life blooming inside of her.

Humans are such strivers. And though we are admonished to “live in the moment,” I’ve got to say that mothers are potentially the worst culprits. We are constantly striving for normal—like it’s wrong to be emotional, wrong to be confused, wrong to be worried, wrong to be tired, wrong to be lumpy, wrong to have leaking nipples. It’s wrong to not be holding it together, and the reason, we are told, is because women everywhere, all around the world, do this every day. And lots of them do it alone. Or have worse circumstances than you. Or were in labor for ten hours longer than the next person. Or have a cleaner house. Or find a way to do more in one day than seems humanly possible. You will always fall short.

We are a people who praise greatness.

The funny thing is, we serve a God who marvels in the smallest things: Sparrows and flowers and singular hairs.

We have neglected this and we have put the “great” emphasis in the weirdest places, missing the Greatness that exists in us. We have to make great, and so what we are, what happens naturally, becomes less than great. It becomes normal.

How normal of you to take two parts of two people and make one person. How normal of you to continue to give of yourself so that the one person you made can actually reside in your body for nearly a year. How normal that you can shove that one person from your body or that when he comes out he has fingers and toes and seeing eyes and a beating heart. How normal of you to sustain that person’s life, by your own body or other means, to physically and emotionally sacrifice day after day to keep a person alive.

Normal. Right?

Not normal. I delight in these things that the world has stopped seeing; because it is my privilege, as a woman, to have experienced this miracle, to have experienced a small piece of divinity, and to have been called to this, in spite of what the world told me was great. To find the inner goddess and to stir a love within that is probably most like real Love than anything else.

 You grew a human in your body, you walking, talking, breathing, weeping, exhausted, leaking, beautiful Miracle.

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