I read a post today where the author was tired of bloggers making motherhood out to be a thankless and selfless job through attempts at humor (and many readers agreed). But honestly, I don’t think those moms intended to cause a raucous over their posts.

It’s pretty common to hear people reply, “There are many out there who want to be a mom, but can’t. Get over it. Get over yourself.”

Yes. Infertility is real. So is infant loss. So is perfectly imperfect pregnancy, preterm labor, and unexpected (e)special(lly amazing) children. Nothing in parenting is guaranteed and nothing should be taken for granted.

My cousin is a week into this mother-hood and she’s not been able to bring her sweet baby home yet. I think she’s looking forward to the sleepness nights and ever-present worry about whether she’s doing “it” right. I pray she’ll have him with her soon. I reminded her to document his NICU stay – his effort to grow big enough and strong enough to get home. Years from now, when he’s a hearty and rambunxious boy, this will be the story he’ll thrive on: You’ve always been a fighter. You proved to doubters that you could live, that you could thrive, that you are incredible. You’ve already won.

I’ll admit that sometimes I wonder how I got into this “club” in the first place – not the biological aspect, but the “they’ll admit anyone, won’t they” aspect of it all. I wasn’t ready, but I wanted to be. I might still not be ready for each new milestone my kids approach, but I try to be.

Often I doubt myself. I question my actions, my responses, my silence. I try to advocate, to support, to encourage, to push. I try to give freedom, to let go, to trust. I try to be the example (and sometimes my mistakes have to become the lessons).

I’m that club member who flounders sometimes on the rules. Wait, are there rules? Are they posted? Can I get a copy?

I’m surprised by thank you’s, they’re not really necessary from my kids. I’m thankful they let me be mommy, flawed and all.

As for the gift of a “poop in peace” voucher that folk mention with humor but others take offense to?

I should probably admit that using a restroom without interruption might be nice, but I understand the urgency my kids place on everything. Time is important. They want mine. I’d better give it to them while they still care to have it. And cuddling? My “I’m almost five” year old is the supreme cuddler these days. And my five month-er steals my heart over again when she reaches in my direction or turns toward my approaching voice. My elder children still place value in an impromptu hug, an afternoon with mom, and in the countless “come watch me” events they’re involved in.

Oh, and this club also accepts those who enter mother hood indirectly. Not every woman who is thrust into a position as the provider, nurturer, boo-boo fixer, tear wiper, confidant, disciplinarian, and all-encompassing hugger birthed a child to be a mom. And not every women is “thrust” – some are called, some are driven, some are meant to be.

I like this club. I think I’ll stay.

Don’t anyone out there tell them I might not be qualified… okay?