Princess Kate and I

We mamas are our own worst critics.  We are also animalistic when it comes to protecting our young at any cost or measure.  God’s given us supernatural abilities to hear the unspoken, to see the details that go unnoticed by most, to calm a raging sea within our children and much more.  We caffeinate, we overcompensate and we give it our all every waking moment of their childhood.  We also have this amazing ability to rally around one another in times of need because we have this underlying understanding, a common sisterhood that seems unbreakable.  We got your back, right? 

Until we don’t. 

As a society this past week we have abandoned our friend, our sister, another mother because of “status” and “standards” and a 30 second film roll.  What we have been quick to forget is that the momentary footage we glimpse is not even a mere fraction of what makes a mother.  We all gasped at the heels, we all scrunched up our brows, we all looked up and down trying to find that post-baby belly, and we all began recalling the hospital gown that left our battle worn behinds on display for all to see.  Then it happened.  We united in numbers too vast to count and we unintentionally began displaying an ugly aggression of tearing down and minimizing another women, another mother. 

Princess Kate and I, we have this thing in common and let me honestly say, it’s painful. 

I sat in a ladies group, a small gathering of women I had grown to trust and love.  But one day I was told that “…you and your husband always match on Sunday mornings.  And your kids are always dressed perfectly – everything about you is so put together…” it went on.  Not in a complimentary type of way, but a bitter one.  My heart hurt for this mama who had shared her struggles.  I understood her and though she couldn't see it, we had been walking a similar path in motherhood.  All I could think of was “if she only knew.” 

If she only knew that our matching outfits are of no credit to me.  I don’t cheerfully rise early, pick out perfectly matching clothes and iron them while I sip coffee.  Not even close, mama.  I drag myself out of bed at the last possible minute because I am.not.a.morning.person.  I spend a solid 30 minutes trying to find anything that comes close to fitting.  Once I make up my stubborn mind, my husband dresses himself to compliment my outfit.   He’s always done it and for that brief moment in time I feel special and seen and reassured that he’s right there by my side – because taking one step in front of a congregation and/or crowd terrifies me every.single.time.  Those kids… girlfriend, if they look put together then Hallelujah! 

My priorities are:

1) Bodies covered +bonus for clothes that don’t have holes or stains

2) Shoes +bonus if they match, socks are optional

          That’s it.  We’re out the door… and always late (sigh). 

But that’s life, that’s motherhood. 
It isn't what it first appears to be if you edit out a small piece of it.  
It isn't what a filtered social media account gives glimpse to. 

And there’s no shame in it. 

I know for certain that “if they only knew” has crossed the mind of the princess.  Why?  Because mamas – no status, title, or prep-crew can change the pain of birthing a child!  Regardless as to how beautiful that red dress looked, how high those shoes were or how elegantly the couple stood there, birth is birth.  It’s God’s design and there’s not a thing we can do to change the course of it! 

The majority of us think of those hours after labor as a haze of Dermoplast, diapers filled with ice, mesh panties, and hair ties.  We could barely help ourselves to a hot shower let alone wave to a crowd.  Our bodies were stretched thin, we bore the pain with the breaking and cringed at everything our bodies did that no-one prepared us for.  One thing is certain, in all our similarities, not a single birth-story is the same as another.  Not a single mother mothers like any other mother. 

Princess Kate is no different.  Her lifestyle may be unlike the general population of parents, but just in the same, each of our lifestyles differ from one home to the next.  Did we ever consider that maybe she preferred grippy hospital socks over heels?  Maybe she secretly desired privacy and to experience the newness of a baby away from the public eye?  Maybe she felt just as uncomfortable as any of us would have felt hours after birth waving to a watching, judging world?  She is human.  She is a mama. 

Where is our compassion, our humanness, our understanding and empathetic ways that we so carefully navigate the rest of our lives with?  Where are the mama eyes that see a little more than the rest of the world? 

Princess Kate in her red dress and heels may not be as un-relatable like we all so quickly assumed.  Because mama, you are beautiful.  Your birth story is admirable.  Every stretch mark and every misshaped, unrecognizable place on your body is lovely.  Every weary moment that you press on and pour yourself out is one worth celebrating.  Whether it be barefoot or heels, red dress or over-sized sweatshirt, you do you.  Because who you are is amazing.  Don’t ever forget it, mama.  And don’t ever bring someone else down to prove it.  Don’t ever compare yourself to another.  Your kids were given you because you in all your glorious mess is what they need.  That is a beautiful, wonderful, indescribable thing!