Motherhood is…
Motherhood is...sacrificial. It is sacrificing your sleep to comfort your little one as they’re trying to fall asleep. It is sacrificing the plans you’ve made with your friends to bond with your child. It is sacrificing your money to give them all the things they need and (may) want. It is even sacrificing the one thing I’ve wanted more than anything else in the past five years of my life...a higher Christian education. As I am approaching 9 months of motherhood, I found that I have sacrificed many things I once identified with as an individual, and have been giving it all up for my little person who relies on me to make him feel safe and loved. It is easy to love my baby. It is easy to make him laugh and smile. It is easy to make him feel safe. But the hardest part is dying to myself and having humility to sacrifice the things that I felt made me, “me”.
Ever since Hezekiah was in my womb, I have been hoarding the aspects of life that gave me a sense of individuality as a mother. When people hoard, it is because that object meant something to them and has sentimental value. That was me, every piece of who I was before motherhood was of sentimental value. The relationships I’ve built; ministry opportunities I committed myself to; and, the Christian education I sought after for was placed on this plate that no longer had the capacity. All the pieces I hoarded into motherhood kept me from being the mother God was calling me to be. I was so busy trying to be someone to everyone that I never took the time to step back and ask exactly what God wanted of me as a mother.
Though my plate was full, I gluttonized over the pieces I held dear to my heart. I thought if I kept more of who I was, I would be truly fulfilled in motherhood. Ah...to be me and a mother. However, that is the sin of this situation though; this isn’t my plate to fill and I didn’t create the pieces I was hoarding. God was gracious in giving me a seat at the table and a plate to enjoy. I don’t deserve to sit at the table, nor do I even deserve a plate with a speck on it. Reflecting upon my heart idols, I am reminded and convicted once again that whatever God decides to give me from the menu is going to be for the betterment of my diet. He intends to fulfill my appetite with a meal that will bring me true joy and glory for his name. God needed me to let go and set boundaries around the pieces of me that were disabling me from being a faithful mother. The sacrifices I have made and will have to make in the future isn’t to take away my identity, but to sanctify my identity and usher me in to raise a God-fearing son/children for his Kingdom.
In the midst of my sacrifices, I am deeply grieving over the Christian education I’ve always wanted for myself—to be equipped for God’s Kingdom and what he’s called me to. Nevertheless, feeling grief after making a decision doesn’t mean you’ve made the wrong one. I am learning that no dream is worth sacrificing crucial years with my child. Being a mom to Hezekiah is not a threat to my joy, rather, it is a means to show me true joy. Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying that all your dreams must be sacrificed to be a faithful mother, and it certainly doesn’t mean that my child has stopped me from pursuing my dream. If the totality of my dream was to pursue a Christian education to be better equipped for God’s Kingdom, then the agent of getting there was only removed, not the substance. I’ve discovered that being a mom has already started equipping me for God’s Kingdom. Growing in the fruit of the Spirit, trusting in God, developing humility in different areas of my life, and selflessness are attributes that cannot be taught nor learned through a Christian education.
The hardest in all my sacrifices is the time I give to work everyday versus being Hezekiah’s mom. I thought working from home would mean I get to see and spend more time with my baby, but it’s quite the opposite. I find myself working 45-50 hours a week, stuck in my room the majority of the time. I have four hours after work with him but that’s not to mention the responsibilities of cooking and/or cleaning in between. Before I know it, I’m cuddled in bed staring at him as he drifts to sleep, asking myself, “Who is this baby?”, “Does he even know that I am his mom?”. I am mourning the reality that I won’t be the first to experience his milestones. I am at a place where I’ve accepted the reality of missing out on the things I wanted to be present for when dreaming of the days of motherhood. Though I’ve accepted the reality, I am still learning to cope with the thought of “I’m a mom, but am I being a mom”.
Preparing for motherhood, I remember telling my family and friends to remember to invite me because of my fear of missing out (FOMO). Missing out on social events, ministry opportunities, relationships, and a Christian education now seems so far fetched as everything I’ve had FOMO on has shifted to my son. In the peak of my mourning stage, a friend made a comment to me saying, “It’s not how long you spend with them. But how engaged you are when you’re with them”. This comment changed a lot of how I spend my time. Not only have I stopped hoarding, started sacrificing and setting boundaries around pieces of me that were keeping me from being a mother God’s called me to be, but I’ve started saying no (graciously and with absolute rational of course). I am better engaged with Hezekiah now more than before taking those few practices to heart.
I know this blog is seemingly everywhere, and it probably is because I’m just a mom writing out my entangled thoughts. So what’s the point of this? What’s the thesis? The point is this...motherhood is sacrificial. It is dying to yourself and having humility so another little human being can be raised up for God’s purpose. You would think that marriage does this part of sanctifying, but it only prepares you to die deeper to yourself for motherhood. No mom community, advice column, or motherhood blog really prepares moms for the chasmic valleys we have to walk through because every journey is different. I still have a lot of learning ahead of me, but here is one thing that is sure and real and infinite for all moms, we have a God who embraces us. He has given us hope through his Word, and an avenue for intervention and comfort—that is prayer. Despite how many pieces of yourself you stop hoarding; despite the sacrifices and boundaries you’ve made; despite the amount of no’s you’ve exercised, you will always need to be knee-deep in the Word of God and prayer. We will be our most faithful when we are strengthened by he who created us and our child(ren). Hallelujah, amen.
CY