A woman carries a baby deep in her womb for the better part of a year; endures morning and/or afternoon nausea; swollen feet; stretch marks; the discomfort of carting around a belly the size of a hot air balloon; and the knowledge that after the happy event her body will probably not bounce back to what is was.
Then, if all that wasn’t enough, with one foot in the grave, she does hard, manual labor to push a football-sized baby through an opening smaller than the size of a cherry pit into Life.
And if she is brave enough to breast feed, well, do you have any idea how much cracked nipples hurt when those sweet, tiny lips take hold?!
Now, if we were a lucky baby, our mothers continued to nurture us in a million in little ways – physically, emotionally, spiritually, and financially — for 18 years (minimum).
Mm, in light of all that a human mother must endure to gift life, doesn’t the attitude quoted above seem decidedly sorrowful and unworthy?!
Please, say yes.
Well, as for me, I expected too much.
Or is it more commonsensical to expect nothing from and give little to Life and to others?
I gave too much.
I still want to be more than happy — I still want to be filled with as much hope as I can stand.
Here’s my truth…
My expectations are largely disappointments.
And I got so much less than I gave.
And I have to do battle with Life every single day to keep my grasp on just a sliver of hope.
But, the truth is, while I totally understand being bone weary of it all — because I am — I do not want to surrender to “I’m happy enough.”
Because this attitude is simply unworthy!