Being Ready

If you'd happened to glance at the white board in our kitchen about 2 years ago, you would have seen the words, "Show me you are ready."

I remember getting this impression after praying that Mike and I would be able to have a baby one day. A few simple words, a transfer of the proverbial ball from God's court to mine. Was I ready to have a baby? Was I showing God that I was?

I remember thinking at the time, what does it mean to "be ready" for a child? I thought of a lot of different ways to prove my readiness to Heavenly Father - by strengthening my spirituality, my marriage, my physical means. And looking back over the past two years, since I wrote that message on my white board to when little Eli joined our family, I am more ready. I can't help but see the irony in the fact that only two months after we bought our house here, I found out I was pregnant. Sure, tons of people have babies while living in apartments or small quarters, but maybe buying this house with lots of extra rooms (one that I called my craft room but secretly thought of as a nursery) was a leap of faith, a way to show God that I was making plans for future kids, even if they weren't here yet.

Also, Mike and I seem so much more prepared now to be parents. Any marriage has its ups and downs, but the last two years have really been essential to us building an even stronger, happier relationship. I feel good about bringing a baby into us.
 
When I was about 4 months pregnant, Mike and I went to the temple. I was sitting there, holding my belly and praying that, if everything was meant to be, that I would feel a closeness to this little baby, that I would be able to bond with him even though I was scared. Right at that moment, I felt him kick the exact spot where my hand was. That was the first time I felt our little guy move. It was his, and God's, way of letting me know that everything would be okay and that I could open myself up to the vulnerability of loving this little baby growing in my belly.
 
I think that all this time, the waiting, praying and thinking about how I can prove my readiness, has made me the type of woman that will cherish (most of) the moments of motherhood. I can't say that I'll be the epitome of patience or the most exemplary mom out there, but I know that I will value this gift of being a mom.

In fact, the other night, Eli was laying in his Pack & Play beside our bed. It was about 6 a.m. and I had fed him, rocked him and finally put him down. I lay in my bed beside him, listening to him fuss and grunt, thinking, "Sorry, little man. I've done everything I know how to do. You might just have to ride this one out." Well, all of two seconds later, I found myself at his side, lifting him up out of his crib to hold him to my chest. The instant I picked up, he left out this ginormous burp. It was pretty funny and I instantly thought, hey, that's what was bothering you. And, maybe because it was 6 a.m. and I was sleep deprived, I suddenly started crying, thinking, "This is motherhood. This is my chance at being a mom. I don't have to listen to him 'cry it out' if I don't want to. I can just hold him, even if I'm tired and I know I should be sleeping. This is my chance." It just seemed so beautiful.

This is my baby, and I get to love him.