Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Finding God in Motherhood

Matt left early to study for finals and Emi's asleep. After yet another night of being up every hour with a screaming baby I find myself too awake to sleep and too tired to be productive. The TV is scrolling through a slideshow of stock photos because I'm too lazy to turn it off and I actually appreciate the calm the nature pictures bring. It makes the room seem alive, even if I feel dead.

I read through some of my old posts a few weeks ago, contemplating whether or not I should start writing on this thing again. One of my favorites, one written out of raw and honest emotion, was about the realities of being a mom.

Emi hadn't slept the night before. Her reflux was bad again and the medicine didn't seem to help. Add one stressed out mom and her first nasty cold and I really wasn't feeling well. I had missed church that morning. Matt took Emi and left me to wallow in bed. Of course, I didn't know I was wallowing at that point. I just felt tired. The kind of tired that you don't just feel but that you are. The tiredness filled my bones and overflowed into my mind. I knew I needed to get up; I needed to go to church. I needed that boost that only comes from sitting in a congregation of friends and strangers and listening to words about Christ. I remember sneaking into the back of the building and sitting on the hard chairs. The goal was to blend in. I kept my eyes down because I knew that anything could trigger a waterfall that I wasn't sure I could stop. I was dangerously emotional. A woman actually came up to me after the meeting and asked if I was new and I lost it! It wasn't just a cry. It was an all out "horse cry". You know, where you start with the staccato breathing, unable to catch your breath so you start making the awful 'ee ee ee hoo" sound and end up with the hiccups. If you don't know what I mean ask me to show you sometime. It's almost as attractive as you're imagining. 

That summer had been difficult.  Unexpected health problems, two back to back surgeries, a thousand miles of travel, and a new baby were making adjusting to our temporary circumstances harder than it should have been. Matt was working long hours at an internship that proved not to pay as much as we were hoping. We were living with my gracious in laws, and despite how wonderful they are it's hard not having your own home.

Those memories are jumbled now. New challenges replace old ones. Happy memories join those that are good. There are still lots of days, though, where motherhood is hard. I was praying the other night and found myself tempted to cry out, "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!" A ridiculous thought, isn't it? In my shallow self pity and forgot that God has seen it all. He has wept for his Children. He has sorrowed in their misdeeds and I'm sure He too has fallen to his knees in near exhaustion. He gets it. As the realization hit me, my heart softened and I whispered, "Help me."

Being a mom is still hard. It's always going to be hard. "Anything easy isn't worth it." But, I'm not doing it alone. I have to give credit to an incredible husband that loves our little stinkbug more than I thought was possible and helps me get through the long nights and longer days. But, I have someone that is with me always- the perfect parent. He watches, guides, and comforts. Always. And that's pretty great.

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