Bedtime

I find in my home that there are few moments more sacred or sweet than the ones that I spend rocking Michael to sleep. His last few glances around the world today are all of me. He sees me, he half smiles, he babbles, he snuggles in. His eyes flutter a couple of times, he may jerk awake to the sound of one of the dogs scratching their neck making their collar jingle. But he feels safe, I know he feels safe.

I am doing my part, I am trying desperately to prepare him for "the world". I'm trying to raise a boy who will be a man worthy of taking a wife someday. I want other women to be jealous of how wonderful he is to his wife and children. I want him to be strong and generous and kind. I want what most mothers want for their sons. I read him a story from his "The Children's Bible" almost every night and we have family prayer every night. I think I'm doing my part?

Still I can't help but feel inadequate sometimes as a mother. I see many of my friends who are mothers stay at home with their children and bond with them all day. Lots of things help make me feel as though I'm not doing everything I should. Snide comments from breast milk elitists or blogs written by women who think that a c-section does not really qualify as child birth. Or really, the one that eats at me day in and day out-I'm a a working mother. This becomes especially hard to cope with on Sundays for a couple of reasons. Most of the women in my ward are all stay at home moms, it's common in my church for moms to stay home, everyone wants to plan church get togethers in the middle of the afternoon, and I have to go back to work in less than 24 hours.  I'm doing everything the opposite of how I've been told to do them. Am I wrong? I had a c-section, not by my own choice but to some (many) women that makes no difference. "Oh, you had a c-section? Well that doesn't really count though-I mean, you didn't actually have to birth Michael." Ummm, he's here, isn't he? I'd call that childbirth. "Ohhhh.....so you didn't breastfeed? That's a shame. You know they really benefit from breast milk more than formula." Well, as if it's anyone's business why I didn't breastfeed??? And yes I am a human living in the U.S. I see ads everyday about breast milk being better for babies...I've done the best I can for my son. I don't understand why women (I've been guilty before) want to tear other women down? Worst of all-I don't know why I listen.

It all draws me back to rocking Michael. He's fluttering his eyes closed and he knows me. He sees me, he feels me, he hears me, he smells me, and best of all-he loves me. He could truly care less that he is here by c-section, that he drinks formula or that I'm a working mother. He knows I come home at the end of every day. He gets excited to see me, he kicks and giggles. He knows that I'll be rocking, singing, reading, and cuddling every night with him and that makes everything that I'm doing the right way of doing it.