It has taken five years

I have been a mother now for a little over five years. I am mother to one baby in heaven, that I will meet one day. We lost her(don't really know), when she was ten weeks in the womb. Quietly sleeping in their beds are Nathan-5, Timothy-almost 4, and Keith-16mos.
You know it has taken all of these five years for me to really like being a mom? I always grew up thinking that I wanted to be a mom, to be a stay-at-home mother who did all the homekeeping. Up until recently I have inwardly rebelled at the sacrifice of being a mom. When my oldest ones were teeny, I struggled with bitterness at the cost of being a mom. Perhaps part of what happens to us as moms is that we are softened. Instead of being the young know-it-all in our twenties, we grow into the thirty-something and forty-something know-it-not. As children and life experiences change us and challenge us, hurt us, confuse us, love us, we let go of our little pet theories and learn to love. We learn to love our children as they are, we learn to love our husbands as they are, we learn to love God whether we see Him or not, we learn to love and accept ourselves exactly as He made us.
Instead of straining after what I am not doing, (like back then), I am content to watch my baby sleep, to snuggle my older ones and dance with them (they still want to!) I am happier cleaning up the messy kitchen than I used to be, I am more contented to be home than away. I am happier singing Jesus Loves Me and Amazin' Grace with my little ones then to be earning a six-figure salary.
When I am old, and my children and grandchildren and perhaps great-grandchildren are around me, loving me, caring for me, I will be happy that I took time out of my life to love them and care for them, and teach them the importance of loving and caring for others. In the light of old age, no longer does the career life have any appeal. When I am an old woman, I will want faces I love surrounding me, not possessions and bank accounts. When I am an old woman, I will then know, more than ever, the value of the work I have done, though I may not have earned a cent.