What I wish…

I wish that mothers would complain less. Before you keyboard warriors start attacking me, let me explain. I know mothers have it hard, no matter what stage of “motherhood” one may be in, IT IS HARD. I think this stage of my life has been the hardest yet- even without the extra challenges of Ashtyn’s diagnosis. This journey is NO joke.

I just wish I was as “lucky” as the “unlucky” mother who complained that her child talks too much.

I wish I was the mother who was up all night because her daughter wanted to have a midnight tea party.

I wish I could watch my daughter and husband, the best father in the world, play superheroes in the front yard as I prepared lunch.

I wish I could deal with the terrible two attitude that I see complaints about.

Something was taken from me once the doctor told us what our reality would be. Everything that I thought I would experience as a mother vanished. I didn’t know what we were in for, but I vowed to make every moment last. I see these parents who are so fascinated with everything around them EXCEPT their child. I see parents ignoring their children when they ask them to play. I see children who long to be the center of their parents attention, but are often upstaged by some sort of device. I want to shake them and scream “don’t you know how precious this moment is?”

Since being Ashtyn’s mom I have learned many lessons, but the one I will carry with me for the rest of my life is to never take anything for granted. Ever. From the moment I heard her first cry, I thanked the Lord. Her first bottle, I etched into memory. Her first smile is forever engraved in my heart. I take every little milestone and document it somehow because they carry victory. I use them as reminders of how far we have come, as reminders of the miracle working power of Jesus.

So my plea to those who are blessed enough to be parents: BE PRESENT. Do not take even the smallest things for granted. There are parents, like me, who would give their last breath to hear their child call them mommy or daddy. We long for the first roll, crawl, step. We wish for something that may never come.

To my fellow parents who feel like I do. You are strong. You are brave. You are exactly what your child needs. You are not alone.