This post suddenly hit me while I was taking a shower. For some reason, my in-depth personal posts almost always come to me that way. Maybe because when there’s nothing to do but wash your hair and look at blank space it FORCES you to stop and think. This one is for my mamas, especially the ones who have an infant or toddler. Because this is personal reflection, fair warning, this is faith based. I know my readers may not share my personal faith, but perhaps if you keep reading something will hit home for you, too.
Let me do a bit of a backstory. I was married in 2008, and we didn’t have our daughter until 2016. Honestly, we didn’t know if we would be able to have kids. When we had my little girl I was thirty-six years old, and had been wishing and praying for a lovely little child of our very own. However, I was also scared of the baby stages, not having been around many babies in my adult life. Most of my friends are childless, either by choice or not (so can we bust a myth right there about people with kids leaving behind their friends without kids?). So, those baby days were HARD.
Here’s the thing I have to say. I had spent thirty-six years on this planet, and of course, in that time I had fostered my own passions and interest, and even grown my own business. I loved my hobbies and my friends and my life. But now, here I had this little bundle I had been praying for. This alien, screaming, never-sleeping-when-I-wanted-to-sleep bundle.
People said “oh, babies sleep all the time! You’ll get lots of sewing done while she sleeps.” LIES. My baby had what they call “silent reflux.” But it was undiagnosed for about the first three months of her life, so during that time while I cried and questioned my life choices while my child screamed and sputtered and didn’t want to eat, I escaped into social media or I tried (unsuccessfully) to nap.
Here’s where one of the myths of our Christian culture can come in. There’s a little thing that goes around that people like to say “if you’re unhappy, you don’t have enough faith.”
My sweet sisters, let me tell you this. We can have JOY. God grants us joy. But happiness and joy are two different things. You can be unhappy. You can cry. You can have post-partum depression. But you can still have JOY.
I feel like there’s this thing that goes around in mom circles, which causes many mothers in the early days to question their sanity. People say “this is the best age.” But when you’re home and in the trenches and haven’t slept more than two hours at a time, and your child is screaming, and you can’t figure out why you can’t breastfeed because it makes your child sick, but you’re supposed to because its “the best”, you start to wonder what’s wrong with you.
“Cherish this time, it goes so fast.” Now that she’s almost three, I do look back with some fondness to those baby days. But those early baby days still send waves of fear and anxiety down my spine.
ITS OK, MY LOVES, IF YOU FEEL THIS, TOO. We are the unspoken minority.
Just because it’s hard, just because you may be having a hard time adapting to your new life, just because you may mourn for those hours you could spend immersed in your work/hobbies/identity/interests… NONE OF THOSE THINGS MAKE YOU A BAD MOTHER. THEY MAKE YOU HUMAN.
“For this child I have prayed.” YES. AMEN. But you’re allowed to have hard times. You’re allowed to be uncertain, or have sadness, or mourn parts of the old life. It’s OK.
Past me, when wanting a child so badly, may have seen what present me admits is hard and be jealous I even had the opportunity for those hard times. But let me tell you, bottling up our challenges because we are afraid of what our past self would say is NOT HELPFUL to other mothers who really just need someone else to admit this being a mom IS HARD. Don’t let your past self guilt you into lying to yourself, and to God, about your present place. He knows what’s going on anyways. Don’t go to the girlfriends who are wishing and hoping for a child of their own, because they need their own prayer and need their own safe space. But find those mothers of your clan who will listen and let you cry, without the overwhelming advice you don’t really need or the “this goes so fast”. That’s not what you need when you’re already struggling with your personal feelings and new life. In retrospect it goes fast, but in the moment it goes SO SLOW.
And snuggle that little darling. Because as hard as the hard times are, we all know those precious times are worth more than all the gold and riches we could ever wish and hope for.
Oh, and by the way, we are perfectly happy with one. Please stop asking.
If I don’t respond to comments, please forgive me. Because, if you’re in the same spot, you know that all those free moments can only go so far and we’re all just doing the best we can with what little brain cells we have left.