Dear Divine Presence, whether you are God, Jesus, Allah, the Universe, or any watchful entity in the skies who might hear my pleas—unlike my children—I find myself on my knees today, seeking your guidance in the intricate journey of motherhood. Yes, I may be simultaneously scrubbing dried oatmeal from the carpet, but please don’t confuse multitasking with a lack of sincerity.
Grant me strength today, O Lord—physical strength to carry my spirited 4-year-old through the grocery store parking lot as she kicks and screams about needing that pony cookie to maintain her friendship. Also, grant me the emotional fortitude to validate her feelings instead of losing my cool and shouting in frustration.
During her tantrum, help me to hold her surprisingly strong arms with compassion, rather than fury. And as she attempts to roundhouse kick me, give me the restraint to not retaliate in anger.
Today, I ask for patience—more than I need coffee—a reservoir of patience to wait for my baby to drift off to sleep in my arms. I will rock, bounce, nurse, and even squat if necessary, despite my pelvic floor struggling to keep up. Help me to sway him gently, resisting the urge to shake him out of sheer exhaustion, even when he seems to fight sleep with every ounce of cuteness he possesses.
We are both so very tired, dear God. Once he finally succumbs to sleep on my sweaty, showerless self, instead of wishing for solitude, inspire me to cherish these fleeting moments, as he will not be this little for long.
I also seek empathy today, to comprehend the monumental significance of my children’s insistence on having their sandwiches cut into triangles instead of rectangles—despite changing their minds just moments before. Remind me that I, too, often change my mind, though perhaps not with such fervor.
As one child bolts from me in a busy parking lot, allow me to chase after them in my flip-flops, grateful for their independence while my post-baby belly jiggles in protest. And when I discover my son chewing on a soggy piece of toilet paper he fished from the toilet, please help me keep my gag reflex in check—I simply can’t deal with another mess, even if it’s my own.
When my daughter insists on wearing sparkly tights with a tank top over a tiger T-shirt, topped with a knit beanie and jellies, grant me the grace to encourage her unique style without worrying she will turn into one of those teenagers reciting poetry in coffee shops, lamenting about her privileged upbringing.
Help me maintain my patience to respond kindly to the 602 questions they will pose today, for inquiries about why cats are called cats and the difference between boobs and nipples are indeed curious. Remind me that their inquisitiveness is what makes them brilliant, even if it drives me to the edge of sanity.
Instead of berating myself for not being a perfect mom, let my inner voice be gentle, even as my outer voice pleads, “Pick up your toys or they’re going in the trash!” And amidst the teething chaos, when one child gnaws at my face while another pretends to be a rabid animal licking my arm, please provide me with a glass of wine—I need it to stave off the darker thoughts.
Assist me in managing their exuberant shrieks with laughter and joy rather than threats or bribes, especially when they loudly proclaim “penis” in a restaurant. And when they launch bits of macaroni from their mouths at our server, remind me that their manners are not a reflection of my parenting—they definitely got that from their father.
Speaking of him, grant me the capacity to still show affection to my husband, even when he complains of tiredness despite having slept through the night like a log. And please elevate my desire when he finally cleans the high chair for the second time.
As I gaze at my motherhood-worn body, nourished by animal crackers and sporting dark circles, stretch marks, and sagging breasts, let me not harbor resentment toward my children for the physical changes I’ve endured. Instead, help me appreciate that this body has brought forth the joyfully chaotic beings that are my children. Someday, when I too am in diapers, they will be there to care for me, and I desperately want to get this right.
Amen.
In Summary
Motherhood is a beautiful yet challenging journey filled with moments of chaos, joy, and love. Seeking patience, strength, and understanding is essential as we navigate this remarkable experience. For more insights on enhancing fertility and home insemination, consider exploring resources like Boost Fertility Supplements and Intra-Cervical Insemination. The UCSF Center for Reproductive Health is also an excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination information.