How’s motherhood?

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted on here, or even had the time to write leisurely. Still, I’ve been yearning to get back to this somehow, so hoping to make a few consistent posts in May because 1) as I reflected on old posts, I realized how important it is to express oneself… to have a healthy outlet to dissect the millions of thoughts and emotions that one encounters in a day. Also, 2) May is “mental health awareness month” here in America with a lot of content also geared towards mothers, so I’d love to share a few posts about my brief journey in motherhood thus far and the implications it has had on my mental health, too. Win-win!

I’m hesitant because this means there needs to be a level of honesty and vulnerability that I’m not sure I want to invite everybody into. It seems mothers are quick to be bashed for not rejoicing in every aspect of their lives all of the time. Nonetheless, I am always willing to share my story because I care about the realness – the rawness – behind our day-to-day lives and hope that sharing can offer glimpses of hope unto the one who gives me hope throughout the long days.

So, where to begin?

Most people are well aware of my personal life, but for those who may not be, we’ve had a healthy baby girl (Judah) since the loss of our son, Joshua. With mental health being a topic for the month, I’d love to talk about our process of coping with grief in a future post especially when it came to trying for more children.    

But the [loaded] question begs, “How’s motherhood going? What’s it like?”

I wish I could adequately describe motherhood. I’d like to believe there is something that biologically changes in a woman once she gives birth and continues to care for her baby. Some people describe birth even as a spiritual birth of sorts, an “awakening” or transformation into a new woman entirely.

I’m not sure about all that, but I know, for me, it’s like my heart expanded a thousand times more once I held my daughter for the first time. There was so much love for this tiny being that I had never even met, and even with all the newness, it felt like she was always a part of our lives. It was hard to imagine that I now had a child, but it was also hard to imagine ever being without her.

Some parts feel natural and others not so much. On one hand, it felt natural to attend to her every cry and hold her until she was comforted. Or even to co-sleep with her because I felt like I was the safest place she could be. On the other, it was harder to give up my sleep on many nights or even a clean house in the name of exploration.

It is a constant dying to self and not many can take that. Why would death be easy? There’s a reason why many people today don’t care to get married or have children. People see it as giving up your life. And there’s truth to that, for sure. In a way, it really is transformation into a new person.

I’m learning though that the more I try to hold onto my ways, preferences or plans, the less happy I am. But the more I let go of my expectations, or whatever else, for what the Lord has for me in the moment, the more I experience joy. “Whoever seeks to preserve his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life will keep it.” (Luke 17:33)

It takes surrendering of my own will in exchange for God’s. And when I do, he undoubtedly gives me peace.

Motherhood is beautiful. Humbling. Rewarding and yet so tiring. One of my favorite sayings is, “Motherhood is hard and holy work.” That’s certainly true. My latest prayer has been asking the Lord to show me his purpose for motherhood… I imagine it’s being transformed into the image of Christ, but on my not-so-great days, it’s hard for me to see.

Currently, we’re in the throes of toddlerhood which is a whirlwind. I thought I was a decent mom… until this stage hit.

These days, there’s a mixture of having so many joy-filled moments and then the next I’m faced with my shortcomings: impatience, lack of grace, you name it. Toddlerhood can be immensely frustrating because you either a) don’t know what your child wants or b) know what they need but they fight you on it. Apparently, my husband can take this in stride, but I’m not so graceful, I guess.

Our daughter has been an absolute GIFT… but ever since she’s been developing her own will, often in defiance of mine, I feel myself trying not to pull my hair out – especially when people offer no helpful advice but to “just be grateful,” or worse, brush off my feelings of frustration entirely.

And then there’s the struggle when people do want to step in and help, yet my daughter is just crying out for me, and I want to run to her rescue because why wouldn’t I want to comfort my child? It’s an internal wrestle, for sure.

There is so much more I can say… but again, I hope to share a few more posts throughout May to continue sharing the raw, real side of motherhood. This is certainly wishful thinking since the three times I’ve tried to type this so far, Judah 1) ran right up to the laptop to start banging on the keyboard 2) woke up early from her nap and waddled straight to me and lastly 3) should have been knocked out from the day but woke up crying from the pain of teething (isn’t it always teething?!).

So, before I try to perfect everything or overthink this post to death, I’ll wrap this up so I can at least share a brief life update since our loss and how we’re doing. Lord willing, there will be more to come.


Thanks for reading!

Here’s to 27!

This was intended to be a short social media post, but I’m a writer at heart and just can’t keep it all in. So, here’s to reflecting on the past year of my life in what I thought was a ‘brief’ manner.

I spent my morning reading, watching the clouds gradually pass by and reflecting on how things seem to keep moving even when I’m standing still. When birthdays hit, it feels as if an account needs to be given of all the highs and lows of the following year and that from it all, self-actualization has been reached. Maybe we do this because we feel we need to show the world that we’re evolving for the better. I don’t really know, but aren’t we always doing something to prove we’re worthy of love and affirmation?

Looking at the past year of my own life, I haven’t shared much publicly these days. The words that I am so used to writing still manage to buzz around my head in the form of anxious thoughts. Sometimes I feel too deeply that I don’t even know how to formulate words around it. Both aspects have certainly been triggered by my own losses within the year and only amplified from the weighty grief of heartbreaking news after news that fills the world and our feeds. Who even knows where to begin? I don’t. All I’ve been trying to do is be honest with God and honest with others, albeit imperfectly, but it’s all I can really encourage others to do… though if honesty looks like despair and bitterness, it’s never really a good place to stay — trust me.

There are so many things I want to say, and maybe if I’m moved enough, I’ll make another post for all the thoughts and feelings, but in the meantime… I am grieved by a world shaking their fists at God and anything/anyone attached to him — not out of judgment ’cause I’m right there with them. I’ve been stuck for a while shaking my fist, too, although because I have the knowledge of who he actually is and I’m surrounded by people who know it too, mine tends to be stuck in my pocket, while I smile through gritted teeth, hidden by shame.

Is it fair to say (at one point or another) we’ve all had a thought that we aren’t/weren’t enough, we haven’t been given enough, or lastly that God himself is not enough? I’ll speak for myself and confess I’ve had all three thoughts of insufficiency. My earnest prayer for my birthday was, at its core, the truth that shatters all of that. He so graciously reminded me of the abundant life he sent his son Jesus to give.

Freedom looks like living fully known and fully loved… it is knowing we’re forgiven, accepted, cared and provided for all in abundance.

Abundance does not equate to materialism necessarily, but rather I’d say synonymous with freedom. Freedom, as we celebrate (or mourn) this Fourth of July, to me looks like no more: striving; living for the approval of others; disappointment and shame from unmet expectations; falling under the weight of this world; second guessing our worth or identity; questioning our standing with God or even his intentions in a cruel and broken world, etc. Freedom looks like living fully known and fully loved in submission to the One who created me, you, and the universe (yes, He is above even that for those new age folks). Freedom is knowing we’re forgiven, accepted, cared and provided for all in abundance. Even when we face sorrow, misunderstanding and heart aching pain, there is supernatural joy and peace that is available, my friend, and that is the abundant life that Jesus so gave his very own for you and me to live.

That doesn’t mean we don’t grieve, face hard things, or even encounter depression… it just means there is so much more to experience and it’s the heart of God for you — it’s relationship, not religion. Anyways, I told you there was a lot on my mind, and this hasn’t even begun to scratch the surface. It might not even make sense stuffed up for a “quick” post. Nonetheless, what a wonderful thing to celebrate on another year of life. Here’s to 27!

"He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?" Romans 8:32