Such a Gift

by Shauna Brown 

I remember with great clarity the day when my first born was laid within my arms. It had been a long, long  day of labor, sucking on ice chips, watching monitors, observing  the hands on the clock slowly pace the long anticipated entrance of our little one. 

Finally, with well assisted forcepts,  my little baby girl was turned, pulled and “at last” she too, cried for equally anticipated relief. 

          From that moment on I felt an enhanced definement of the meaning of the word “Mother”.  

I was ever so grateful to hear her first strong cry. I scanned her little red face - so perfect. Her little pink features made me smile. Yes, I counted every toe and finger. I kissed her on her neck, just where my mother loved to kiss tiny babies. I caressed and hugged her, marveled for hours, days, months after to mark the moment forever upon my heart. I had received a ‘miracle’ to hold and embrace for an eternity. 

Time and time again I thought frequently of my mother and her cherished feeling of motherhood. I saw more clearly, as  I felt more appreciation grow and humbled with the responsibility. 

I recall that several years later, and several more babies,  I was seated in a Sunday School class. There were about fifteen in attendance. The teacher shared an audio of a couple having their first child. We listened intently and it was clear others could identify with a similiar experience. When the little baby cried we all smiled, nodded our heads and reflected upon those sweet moments when we reached into heaven and welcomed our children.

   However, it was clear that one of the women in the class had been overwhelmed with the presentation held within the audio. She wept and cried aloud.  The teacher, being sensitive to her,  invited her to share her feelings. It was apparent she was stirred by it. I will never forget her answer, as she wiped away the tears:  “I have never been blessed to have had that moment in my life. I never heard my children’s first cry. Never waited nine months, never felt any pain. You can’t imagine how it felt to sence what it was like. To hear them cry with happiness, to hear the baby cry. To hear the father, his excitement.  Just hearing what it was like in the delivery room  -- was such a gift.”  ( The young couple had adopted two children from Korea.) 

  I have thought upon that day in the classroom, many times. Clearly it was a tender lesson within a lesson. After her sharing I have counted the incredible blessing of becoming a mother as a focal part of my life and purpose.  Motherhood is a gift, a gift from loving heavenly parents. Parenthood is the classroom of life wherein we learn from those placed within our hearts.  Lessons metered  individually with the growing seasons.  

I smile now, much like my mother did as she recalled her own experiences, as history repeated itself.  I hear my own children announce with frustration, “He drew all over the walls and couch.”  “She used fingernail polish!”  “She scribbled,”  “He broke. . .”     

I guess that’s why I wrote the verse....

Crayon marks will disappear, the scratches they will heal

Stories told to sweet ones, the closeness that they feel.

Tomorrow is coming I see my life in a special way . . . 

Thinking of my own mother I close my eyes and blow a kiss to heaven--so thankful that to her it was Mother’s Day everyday!  She recognized the incredible blessing it was to welcome children into her life.

Oh, how I long for her hugs and her soothing words of assurance.  “You can do it!” 

Enjoy your sabbath. 

Enjoy your Mother’s Day!

Just make sure you get your share of those hugs!

Love Always,

Shauna