10/6/11 Give up your child? I could never.

I realized something this morning, upon waking up at 6am, bright and ugly, and I say ugly because waking up that early is never pretty for me, or for most normal people. I'm convinced that people who wake up naturally at obsenely early hours in the morning like 4 and 5, even 6, are cursed, and should not be trusted, definately should not be looked up to. My questions to those people are these, "When do you go to sleep? And do you consider yourself to be human?"
I realized this morning, as I was scrambling through a medicine cabinet full of old lotion bottles and previous live-in boyfriend's half used deodorant bars and toothbrushes, stained with green toothpaste (that always has grossed me out by the way), that even though there are things in this world that I absolutely abhor, and would full on reject to in a court of law, that I would never give up my child.
I didn't want to slug out of bed at 5:50 because Sarah was coughing. I didn't want to feel my way to the lightswitch through the pile of clean clothes that had somehow rolled onto the floor from the chair that was piled a bit too daringly. It wasn't easy to rip away the covers from my curled up twinkle toes, and peel my cranium from that incredibly comfortably formed pillow structure that took all night to form in a perfect shape that just so perfectly cradled my head.
But I did.
I did it because I love my daughter more. As wonderfully comfortable as my bed is, 500 count thread sheets, down coverlet, NASA generated mattress, it's simply not enough to keep my from being a good mother.
Motherly love is something that can't be screwed with. You can't take it away. You can't strip someone of their feelings, like you're wiping away an embarrassing tear drop that might have formed from watching a Samaritan's Purse commercial with what's her face, Sally something, who got so fat and in my opinion really became a horrible spokesperson for the starving children in Africa.
There's nothing in the world that could ever take away motherly love.
Time can't even touch it.
I was reading something tonight on Facebook that another parent I feel a connection with wrote about losing her infant son 7 years ago, and realized that time doesn't change love either. She clearly still feels love for her child whom she lost, still feels the pangs of loss, and will probably always feel those despite how many other children she might have. And there is nothing wrong with that. She knows it. Her husband knows it.
My mom knows it. We suddenly lost my brother when he was only 20. She didn't stop loving him. She hasn't yet stopped missing him. Neither have I for that matter.
I'm not sure where I was going with this, except that you can not exchange motherly love for anything. And I am truly happy to be a mom, even if it means I have to get up in the middle of the night sometimes only to find barf all over the bed and floor, and spilled food coloring dyed green water all over my brand new cream colored Martha Stewart carpet that I am still paying on. I'm on a no-interest payment plan thankfully, that was sold to me by a very helpful and humble Indian man at Home Depot. I would suggest the store in Matthews over the one on Albermarle Rd.
The birthday parties get rediculous at times. We are on a four a month roll currently, but what can you say? No? Sure you could, but then you wouldn't get to talk about how Sam got stuck on the stairs at Monkey Joes and how Amanda cried all the way home from her shock from seeing Monkey Joe himself, and answering questions about what kind of a person "lives inside" of Monkey Joe is a hoot. You wouldn't have those moments.
Life would be dull without children. My life would be dull without Sarah.