The last several years of my life have been some of the most transitional and challenging yet. In the last three years, I've run a Spartan obstacle race and hiked a mountain while seven weeks pregnant. Those events were super hard and incredibly challenging, and at the end of them I felt like I could do anything!
And then, I had a baby. This beautiful, screaming, precious, pudgy person who rocked my world. And it's true. You can't imagine labor until you're right there - standing in a puddle of amniotic fluid after your water's broken; sitting on a yoga ball enduring earth-shaking contractions that are back-to-back and the 30 second break that's supposed to be in-between isn't coming; your body shaking uncontrollably with the epidural that helps you finally relax enough to be able to push when they tell you to; and then a release and a moment of silence before the cry heard around the world. She's here. She has ten toes and ten fingers, and your nose and two big black eyes just looking for you. Yes, for you Momma.
But labor is nothing compared to the months that came afterward. The obstacle race AND the mountain AND the 14 hours of labor combined are nothing compared to those months. I've been hesitant to speak of the last year. I don't want to scare others who say they want to be moms, and I don't want to make motherhood sound like a nightmare. Most of all, I am scared to be honest - with myself and with you. But I think I'm at a point where I can finally say a little bit of what's been in my head.
My daughter's first year of life is strewn with fantastic memories and sweet firsts and outrageous laughs. But it is also filled with the deepest depression I've ever known, moments of considering resorting back to self-inflicted pain just to take out some of this anger in me that I never knew I had, and weeping in a sleepless bed covered by feelings of failure and ineptitude. And while I could write books and books filled with the truths of my first year as a mom, I feel like I'm finally arriving at a place where I can tell you much more useful things that are hope-filled and not hope-less. So here's what I really want to say...
1. Slow down.
Having River around has made me take time to stop and just be. As a mom who works from home, I had to learn and accept that I am sometimes just going to have to leave what I'm doing to meet my daughter's needs. And that's okay. The emails, the dishes, the laundry can wait while we play in a table fort or take a walk. The work will always be there, but this little person will grow very fast and be out on her own before I know it. Even when I think I'm getting nothing done, I know for a fact that it will get done. Just not right now.
2. I am not as __________ as I think I am.
Insert adjective here! I used to think I was super patient and super kind and super gracious. Until I became a mom. For some God-only-knows reason, my daughter has brought to light just how human and flawed and crappy of a person I really am. I found an anger in me that I didn't know was there, and I could be so harsh towards her if she didn't behave the way I wanted her to behave. My mouth was full of loud and ugly words and my heart was so bitter and cold. I often took out my feelings on my husband who has been nothing short of amazing and supportive through it all. I also learned that I'm not as busy as I think I am. I have more time than I realize; I'm just really bad at using it well. So if you think you're really great at [blank] or you're too [blank], think again. Which leads me to my next point...
3. I need Jesus more than ever.
I still struggle with what I consider my greatest failure as a new mom - not running to Jesus when I should have. I spent a lot of days trying to do things my way or the way that other moms did or the way that all the books and blogs said, but I rarely did things Jesus' way. Sure, I yelled at him and cried to him, but I didn't go to Jesus to be in his presence or to listen for his voice. I didn't reach for my Bible to remind myself of his promises and his love. I just complained to him and asked why he wasn't fixing it. Now I recognize that I need Jesus so badly each day. I simply don't have enough strength, will-power, grace, compassion, kindness, patience... You name it, I haven't got enough of it. I seriously NEED Jesus to get me through each day without tearing off someone's head or uttering ugly words. I NEED Jesus to be my source of life, joy, confidence, and security.
Now things have eased up a bit with River, but she has a lot of life and strong will left in her, and I want more children too, so this journey is nowhere near over. I know I still have a ton to learn, and I know my children will be special tools to teach me those lessons for years to come. For now, I hope that I will lean more and more into Jesus' arms and that I'll rely on his love and strength for my days. Let's take it one day at a time, and remember that there is a deep well of grace and mercy to catch us on our not-so-great days. Thank the Lord!
