I never liked holding babies until I held my own. Babies scared me. Or scratch that—motherhood scared me. When I was younger and my sisters used to play pretend, I would always choose the baby role because it was comfortable. I’d just lie there on the side, eating chocolates and candies, getting “checked” to see if I was sick or hungry.
As the years passed and my friends and colleagues started to build their own families, I thought my feelings would change. When my workmates brought their babies with them, I would awkwardly say hello and give a shy smile to their little ones. In a room filled with people, I would probably be one of the last to touch or tickle the kids. In my mind, babies and kids were too fragile, and I couldn’t handle fragile. I convinced myself I wasn’t motherly or tender enough. I thought I would make a terrible babysitter because I wasn’t good at play and was too frightened to deal with the big feelings of little kids.
But many years later, I became a mother and had my own adorable baby to carry. I didn’t know I would learn to love a baby—and love hard at that. My patience and gentleness grew exponentially. I never stopped smooching my baby’s chubby cheeks a thousand times a day. I often spent my sleepless nights gazing at the lovely face of my little one while cuddling his hair. I spent hours during a week browsing online shops to get new things for his already large haul, always putting his needs above mine. I didn’t mind spending all my energy supervising tummy times and playing peekaboo just to see his gummy smiles.
I grew intellectually—researching for hours and reading books on what’s best for his health and safety. I chose to breastfeed on demand, learned to sing lullabies when I used to prefer sitting in silence, and started eating vegetables regularly to be a healthier mommy for my baby. I welcomed carrying my baby in my arms to soothe him even if that meant I couldn’t feel my arms and back afterward. I endured hearing unsolicited remarks that I had “made a rod for my own back” because I rocked my baby to sleep. I adored his tiny, precious hands and squeezed them many times throughout the day.
It’s funny how things turned out. I became a mother, and it changed me. I have become my fullest, happiest, most loving, and favorite version of myself. Sure, I look and feel different with my mommy pooch, stretch marks, and thinning hair, but I love it nonetheless!
One day, my younger sister asked me, “Is it true that parenthood changes you?” To which I was thrilled to reply, “For sure!” Countless things in my heart and my life were transformed—for the better. To the progressive world, motherhood may look like being on the losing end. The rest of the world will tell you that motherhood will take many things away from you. But nothing could be further from the truth. Being a mother is amazing! In fact, it is one of the most empowering things I’ve ever done.
If there’s anything I want to share with all the women discerning marriage, it’s this: don’t be afraid of motherhood. Don’t fall for the lie that being child-free is the best way to be. If God calls you to motherhood and one day gives you those two pink lines, a growing belly, and soon that cute bouncing baby, welcome every moment. Love the journey! Mother hard and embrace the woman you will become.
by Arianna Freelen 
by Marisa Donnelly 
