T E X A R K A N A M A G A Z I N E
I remember the moment Jack Hays Sarine was born with acute clarity. Once he was delivered, I vividly remember experiencing what I call the “divinely inspired moment of motherhood” phenomenon. As the nurse lifted him up so I could see him for the first time, I instantly recognized him as mine. It was very strange. I remember thinking to myself, “Of course that is what you look like. I have known you for a while.” To be fair, I was hopped up on pain meds, but still, this was a significant revelation to me. I already knew this child was the one God had for me to shepherd and love, even though I had not laid eyes on him until that moment. I have also discovered that this phenomenon is not exclusively experienced by biological mothers. From what I’ve gathered from friends who have adopted, those mothers also instantly knew which child was theirs to take in and love as their own. It is a beautiful and mysterious moment, and I am so humbly grateful I was able to experience it for myself. Within 15 minutes of crossing our threshold, bringing Jack home for the first time, it became painfully obvious that I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. So, what did we do? We called in the professionals, my mom and mother-in-law. These girls really showed up and showed out. I knew my mom could handle any crisis because she raised me, and I am a hot mess! Seriously, though, I trusted her to be calm in any kind of baby storm because she had weathered the diagnosis of my Type 1 diabetes with flying colors when I was only two years old. If you can care for a child with a chronic illness by injecting her with insulin several times a day, taking her to endless
doctors’ appointments, waking up in the middle of the night to place cake icing between her lips in order to fix low blood sugar and associated night terrors and learning the dietary guidelines she should follow, you are a mutha of a mother. And mine is! She did all of this while never letting me feel that a disease defined me. I knew Ross’ mom could handle any kiddie crisis, as well. In the decade I had known her, she had handled any challenge that came her way with grace and poise. Nary a bead of the sweat of distress ever glistened on her brow. These were the all-star mother team captains, and I had them both in my nursery corner. WINNING!!! Also, producing Ross and myself as the resumes of their mothering careers really bolstered their momming average. Jack’s survival through infancy is largely in part to the efforts of these ladies. As we are approaching Jack’s 13th birthday this July, I am so glad God allowed my dreams to change to include being a mom. I have felt every emotion more deeply, seen miracles in every day, laughed and cried more than I thought was possible, and all this because of the gift of one incredible baby boy who is now three inches taller than I am. Maybe I’m more like that girl from East Texas with all the domestic dreams than I thought. I’m still waiting to be granted equal enthusiasm about cooking and cleaning. Maybe I will pray about those too… nah, probably not! Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there! Ours is a high calling and privilege, indeed.
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L I F E & S T Y L E
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