It is 12:01 AM and therefore the start of mother's day 2015.
My last mother's day as a mom of two little giggling and sometimes fighting girls.
I still remember distinctly the mother's day while Claire was in my tummy. I rocked in the glider set up in her perfectly clean and waiting room. The windows had no coverings and sunlight streamed in.
I rocked and rocked and thought of how my life was changing. I was scared to have a daughter and that complicated mother-daughter relationship and how I would navigate it.
I was scared of messing up one of the most important things ever- motherhood.
Fast forward two years and I was pregnant with Sophie and overwhelmed a bit with an almost 2 year old. I knew who I was as a mother but was unsure of the next season of spreading my love and attention across two children.
And now two years down the road I know definitively how a love can expand. How each child is so unique and lovable in their own way. I know more intimately the waxing and waning of motherhood. The deep trench of newborn phase that the intense labor of bringing new life plunges you into. I know the sleepless first year of survival patched with the most intense love, late night cuddles and sniffing a baby's head while trying to balance the needs and love of a marriage.
Before you know it you're at that one year then two year mark where you find a rhythm. You can manage and have hope to see ahead to how your family will be.
I sit this time, rocking in the glider, unsure of life with three and life with a boy.
Will I respond appropriately? Am I teaching them above all to love the Lord? They see me so vulnerable and broken, short tempered and flustered when I want them to see the very best.
This mother's day I am closer to delivery than I ever have been before (the girls both came in July- and now we are surely at most only two weeks away).
I feel larger than I can bear (though I know this passes), and my feet are unbearably swollen.
All of our last minute to-do items are getting done... caulk the front window where dust comes in, caulk the cracked concrete (I did this into the dark tonight, on swollen feet and aching knees, jamming splinters into my fingers in the process), scrub the bathtub etc.
Every piece of clothing in the house is washed, every room picked up.
I am trying to lean in more... Lean in to giving little girls tickles and hugs. Claire who doesn't care to cuddle has come to me the last five or six mornings and padded up breathlessly to my bedside and climbed in beside me, asking me to tell her stories.
This morning, while the rest of the house slept, I whispered the story of the day she was born and without looking I knew her little eyes were staring into the dark and her face had a happy smile on it.
I'm trying to lean in to the Lord, trying to pray and rest in real faith in his promises.
All that's left is to dive back in to a new sleepless, chaotic trench til we flounder and flop for months until we find a new normal.
And some day, two years or more down the road- I can look back and remember this night, before my last Mother's Day as a mom of only two- and I will have so much more wisdom and knowledge.
Happy Mother's day friends.