Mama. It's a big word, for being so small. And it's a big job: so scary, uncertain, frustrating, maddening.
You have a new baby. You're filled with love -- and other emotions, too. Emotions as complicated and delicate as the hormones of pregnancy, birth, and breastfeeding. The emotions, like the hormones, are interconnected and complex.
Your baby grows. You are still filled with love -- and all the other emotions, too. Every day brings new fears, and new jubilation.
Your child stumbles. You stumble. But you go on, motivated by this incredible love for your child. It never gets any easier, this loving, stumbling, getting up and going on.
But you know -- you just know -- in your heart of hearts, in your mama-heart, that this is your path. This is what you were meant to do. This child? This child is your greatest gift -- the greatest gift you have been given, and also your greatest offering to the world.
I've been thinking about my mama-life a lot lately. As my babe reaches three-quarters of a year next Thursday. As I ponder the upcoming holidays, and the gifts I hope to give my children -- beyond what they will find under the tree on Christmas morning.
My job as a mama has been harder, in some ways, this fall than it has ever been. And in so many other ways -- some of them, I know, still hidden from sight -- it has been incredibly, richly blessed.
I needed something, some little thing, to commemorate this -- all of this -- my growth, my struggles, all of it.
So when the opportunity arose for me to choose one of Lisa Leonard's beautiful pieces a couple of weeks ago, my eyes and heart kept leading me back to this one:
Hand holder. Dream soother. Love giver.
Yes. All that, and so much more. Thank you, Lisa. It couldn't have come at a better time.
(This mama necklace is a limited edition piece. It's so incredibly beautiful and well-made -- the details are perfect! If you're not familiar with Lisa's beautiful work, and beautiful family, please go check her out. I can't think of a more generous, gracious mama.)