Skip to main content

The Birth of a Momma

A firstborn's birthday is really two holidays in one.  There's the celebration of the birth of the baby....and the celebration of the birth of a mother.  Both... life-changing, earth-shattering, cosmos-shifting events...equal in magnitude.  But the spotlight of celebration centers on the child.  There's something in the birth of the Momma that's content to be the holder, the arms that cradle, the person who throws the parties and ponders the memories.

I became a Momma 17 years and 4 days ago.  But enough about me....let me tell you about the star of the show.  His name was Riley Kent Florida.  The day he was born was like a dream....because he was a dream.

From the day the knot was tied I was ready to be a Momma.  But, alas, waiting had to be endured until the student teaching and degrees were finished and responsibilities were met.  The plan was to wait until we were firmly settled into a job with a paycheck.  It wasn't more than a couple months after Scott moved into his shiny, new youth pastor office that we had two little lines on the stick....and excitement bubbling over!!  9 weeks of dreaming, and then a baby off to heaven.  That little baby's early exit doubled my burning desire to be a Momma and poured fuel in the form of worries onto the fire.  My soul did a lot of desperate growing toward trusting my good Father those days.

The positive pregnancy test comes's the 9 week mark that makes my knees shake.  My full-time job was prayer, folic acid supplements, parenting reading, more prayer and a cautious dreaming.  The early ultrasound showed the flickering heartbeat of life and my heart hung onto my Dr.'s comment that a healthy early heartbeat looks good for a healthy, full-term pregnancy.

She was right....this time pregnancy was trouble free and my dreams got free reign to run.  I remember sitting at a stop light on the way to work with cars stopped on the right and left of me.  I couldn't help but smile into the sunshine making everything glow, and feel bad for all the people in the world who didn't share my secret.  I prayed myself to work and back every day....always about the baby, my baby.  I'll admit, I prayed that he'd be handsome....more than once.  Praying for good looking children became kind-of an obsession after the pregnancy hormone induced dream I had of giving birth to my firstborn puppy.  I think God understands hormone induced prayers.....I sure hope He does, because I've prayed a lot of them!

Finding out my dreams were going to be of the blue variety was an exciting leap into the unknown for this girl who grew up in a family of only sisters.  Being the daughter of a great man and being married to another great man made the impending birth of a boy sound like a grand adventure.  I began shopping for tiny sneakers and ball caps.

Baby boy's Daddy's side of the family is known for birthing big, strong babies.  Baby boy's Momma's side of the family is known for being slight of frame.  Baby boy's doctor wisely suggested that baby boy shouldn't be given much opportunity for growth beyond his due date and baby boy's Momma quickly agreed.  "How about Monday?" she asked me at my Friday appointment.  The world stopped spinning for a moment as I realized there was a hard and fast clock ticking until the name Mom would apply to me!  What a drive home....sunshine, birds singing, every song on the radio just for me and my little one.  My first chance to share the excitement with Scott was at a funeral later that afternoon.  We tried to keep our excited whispers and giggles under control as we dreamed of a life beginning even as we acknowledged the ending of another.

Christmas Eve-like, we laid in bed waiting for the clock to allow us to get up and claim the day our baby was to be born.  We had an 8a.m. starry-eyed appointment with the Pitocin....and by 5:49p.m. a starry-eyed Momma holding her sweet firstborn son.

That whole next day in the hospital was dreamy.  No requirements but to hold this tiny, perfect little person I'd been sent from heaven like a gift-wrapped present.  No conversations to have but murmured assents agreeing with the adoring visitors who came to cuddle and congratulate.  No projects to complete other than basking in the amazement of having done something so spectacular with the person I love most.

Now, I have even more reasons to smile when I see him.  I smile because of 17 years and 3 days worth of things I've stored up to treasure when I'm old and gray about why I love being a Momma to my man-child.  Watching him on his birthday, as my mind replayed his first-day, made me realize I didn't really even know how to dream then.  I didn't know how to hope big enough for him to be who he is today.  I'm realizing that the dreams I harbor in my heart for him now still might not be big enough.

Michingan's Adventure fun!

Before he picks up his homecoming date....

He's really, really good at lots of things.  He drives cautiously, works hard, trains himself, sets might seem like he achieves effortlessly from the outside looking in.  I live with him, though, and I watch him make hard choices and think and pray and choose.  Parents get scout patches because of kids like him.

"See the monkey, Ging?"

Varsity Soccer

National Honor's Society Induction

But the real thing about him, the thing my Momma's heart celebrates isn't watching him do, but watching him be.  He reminds me of Lazarus in John chapter 12.  The Pharisees plotted to kill Lazarus because he had become such a threat to their schemes.  What had he done to cause them such alarm?  He reclined at the table with Jesus....ALIVE....he was what Jesus had made him.  I see that in Ry.  I see a beating heart who's only explanation is the work of Jesus Himself.  Every day I watch Riley be more than talents and abilities, opportunities, hard work or even good genes and parenting could have made him.  My son's life is proving to my heart, breath by breath, that the Holy Spirit is powerful and active.

My infantile Momma prayers have been answered....he's healthy and oh, so handsome!  My slightly more mature and thoughtful prayers are being answered too.  He loves his a way that's as apparent as sitting at the dinner table alive when you were in the tomb a few short days ago.  My dreams and prayers are expanding as I watch....because I know that that kind of proof of God's work is a threat to the enemy.

I love you so, Riley Kent....and I'm so happy to have been made a Momma the day you were born!


Post a Comment

I'd love to hear what you think!

Popular posts from this blog

The Best Gift a Mother Can Give - The Glorious Table

The wind blew as we gathered around the graveside, and I watched this large, beautiful family say goodbye to their beloved grandmother. There was sadness and there were tears, but the most striking thing was the togetherness laced in, around, and among every emotion and experience of the day. Watching this family, buoyed by their togetherness, prompted a light bulb moment and sent my mind traveling back to my first wrestling match with a big  mom fear . “How can I possibly love my second baby as much as my first?” “Is there enough of me for both of them?” “Will having another baby rob the ones I already have of what they deserve?” I had heard it said that the best gift you can give your child is a sibling. My oldest was only nine months old when I found out number two was going to join our family sooner than my master plan called for. I felt I was just beginning to get my “mom sea legs” and being a mom to two was a bigger challenge than I could get my head around. Everything felt like

The Fight for Control - Day 3

Preschoolers' bodies contain a power that defies the laws of physics.  Moms of preschoolers know there is definitely something metaphysical going on in their homes.  It's also clear to Moms like me that every now and then, a special child comes along with whom the force is especially strong. I had a cute little 3-year-old boy who often left me slack-jawed and feeling outflanked.  His will was strong and it was aided and abetted by a deft use of words and logic.  Maybe you've encountered a kid like can recognize them by the iron glint in their eyes and the furrowed brows of their Mommas.  Maybe you've got one living under your own roof. Even though it felt like Trevor and I jockeyed for position forever...but it was really just a chunk of Trev's 3rd year.  Let me tell you, it was one INTENSE year, but it wasn't eternal.  Our toughest head-to-heads seemed to always happen on evenings Scott was at a late meeting and I was flying solo.  They start

My Funeral - Day 18

Some people might think it's morbid to think about your own funeral. It's not. It's actually smart.  "Begin with the End in Mind" is rule #2 in Stephen Covey's book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.  I want to be highly effective.  Beginning with the end of my life in mind means I need to think about my own funeral. What's closer to the end than your own funeral? I remember being at my Great-Grandma's funeral not too long after I became a Mom.  Her name was Minnie Merrow and she lived a long life.  She outlived almost all of her contemporaries.  Most people at her funeral were family - children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren.  The room was big and it was full.  Many people there I didn't even know but each was connected to my great-grandma. I only have a few personal memories of my grandma Minnie. She always kept chocolate chip cookies in her chest freezer and would let my sister and I eat all icy c