My Journey to Motherhood
(August of 2010)
I have come a long way in the short
7 years I have spent as a parent. The
mother that I am today is nothing like the one that I started out as, and
hopefully only a hint of the one I will be tomorrow. I am learning that it is an ever-changing
process, a journey of self-discovery and of giving up of one’s self. It is the most unselfish profession and the
most rewarding work imaginable.
When I first gave birth in the
unfamiliar hospital room, I didn’t know what I was getting into. I still did not think of myself as a mother
and I had no idea what to expect when the baby I was birthing was finally
born. I do remember feeling a little sad. I had grown accustomed to a living creature
inside of me. It slept with me, ate with
me, kept me up at nights and hiccuped frequently. And now we were about to be separated. Would I feel empty? Would we ever be as close again?
This sadness was coupled with
anxiety. I was an only child growing up
and was not accustomed to children.
Would I know how to care for her properly? Would my motherly instincts “kick-in?” Being an only child I had a healthy dose of
selfishness to my nature. I worried that
I would not give enough of myself to my soon-to-be born child and that this
would have lasting detrimental effects.
And then she was born: a beautiful baby with the large brown eyes. Fearfully I took her, uncertain of my own
emotions. She was mine, but she looked
nothing like me. I saw no resemblance in
her features whatsoever. Yet she was
mine. She had to be, she came from
me. Yet she was a stranger.
I remember my husband’s eyes, wild
with excitement and fear. His role was
changing, his world was expanding.
“She’s looking at me!” His voice was touched with pure happiness as he
first glimpsed his newborn daughter. I
knew that he was hooked.
Where was my reaction? Why couldn’t I respond like that? I was her mother! I’m supposed to cry when she is born and look
adoringly into her eyes. Yet I could not
feel anything but fatigue. I remember silently
praying that our visitors would leave so that I could steal a moment of rest. I
had never felt more tired in all of my life.
Awkwardly I nursed her and held her
for visitors to see. I was fascinated by
her little body, but too overwhelmed to process what I really thought. A nurse came in and asked me if I needed more
pain medication. I wasn’t sure what to
say, this was my first birthing experience.
Wasn’t I supposed to be in a lot of pain? My tailbone had been bruised and I had needed
an episiotomy as well. I was told very
little about these things in my birthing classes. The birth had gone smoothly, but the recovery
was much harder than I expected.
At last the visitors went home and
the nurse offered to keep Kaira, my newly born daughter, in the nursery with
her. I was grateful for the offer as I
was so exhausted that I didn’t trust myself to wake up if she needed me. I remember immediately falling asleep, only
to be awakened every couple of hours to be checked or to be given more
medication, or to nurse, or to eat. I
felt like I hadn’t slept a wink and groggily went through my first day like
this.
Soon enough it was time to be sent
home. My husband was excited about
this. I was terrified. I could barely get out of bed, let alone take
care of a newborn! I let them wheel me
to my car where I watched the nurse check Kaira’s car seat insertion. All was well.
Except for me.
In a dream, I watched the buildings
go past as we made our way to our home.
I remember how small Kaira looked in her car seat as we set it upon our
barren dining room table (it was so easy to keep clean and clear back
then!). Friends kept us company for the
evening and for a couple of hours, I almost felt normal. If I had been more experienced, I would have
known that I should have gone to bed while Kaira was sleeping.
The fun began around 2 am. I remember Scott nudging me awake as I did
not wake up on my own to her cries. He
had considerable difficulty waking me whenever she awoke to nurse, and I never
felt more tired in my life. Would I ever
have energy again? I know that much of
the fatigue was due to my surgery. I
looked drained and pale much of the time.
But slowly, my strength returned.
My most difficult moment came when
Scott left the house to go for a walk.
Some visitors came to the house with some dinner, and I was lying on a
couch in the upstairs family room.
Slowly I got up to go down the stairs, and searing pain shot through me
from my stitches. I cried in pain and
fell to the floor. I was unable to get
to the door. Kaira had started crying
and I could do nothing about it. My
neighbor kept knocking and could hear my cry.
Slowly I inched down the stairs and
made my way to the door. My face covered
in tears of panic and great humiliation, I opened the door. The three friends that were gathered on the
doorstep immediately came in and helped me to pick up the baby, and they stayed
and comforted me until Scott could return.
That was the most helpless I had ever felt.
There were other trials to face
being a new mother. It seemed that
everyone had an opinion of how I should care for my daughter except for
me. One would say that pacifiers were
wonderful things and another would shake her head in disapproval. Some felt that antibiotics should be administered
with every cold, while others advised caution.
Some told me that I should just put cereal in her milk to help her sleep
while others said absolutely no solids for 4 months. And so on.
I began to dread new advice as it only made my head spin.
I really think I was just a late
bloomer. It took time and experience to
sift through the mountains of information and advice I had received about
parenting. When my daughter easily gave
up her beloved pacifier at the age of 2, I realized that it was not so evil if
it helped her to sleep peacefully throughout the night. And while I initially thought that I was
happier to continue to work at my daytime job, my thinking began to change
after the birth of my son. It was even
harder to go back to work the second time, and I found myself longing to be
with them at the end of the day. My
heart was no longer in my work, it was home where they were. This led to my ultimate life-changing
experience: becoming a stay-at-home mom.
This took a great deal of faith for
me to do. I had a well paying job and
our family had to take a significant income reduction. Thankfully, my husband was supportive. The Lord had been working in our lives to
build up our faith, and I believe it was to make us ready for this change. It wasn’t easy and we’ve had a difficult road
financially at times, but our lives have been much richer for it.
Growing up, I never daydreamed or
imagined that this would be my future. I
thought that a stay-at-home lifestyle would drive me crazy. I wanted to have a career and go places with
my life. It’s funny how life can change
your plans. I soon realized that I not
only wanted to stay home, but that I had little desire to stay in my
career. I just couldn’t imagine what
could be more important than being at home with my children. Soon I
had a third child, then a fourth. And
now, I’m expecting my fifth. I never
dreamed that I would have more than a couple children, but with each new child,
the Lord has shown me that he can provide for all of our needs. Each child brings their own unique blessings
to the family. If we had stopped at
number 3, we would have missed out on all that number 4 had to offer, which is
a great deal of joy. I am not afraid
anymore. In fact, just the
opposite. I feel that I am finally where
I was meant to be all along. And I
couldn’t be happier about it. It took me
7 years.
I am writing this in the hopes of
encouraging another young mother out there.
Wherever you may be or however you may be feeling, the Lord is there,
waiting patiently to bring you into His arms.
His ways are gentle and good.
There is nothing to fear.
