Me - The Unnatural Mother

Every once in a while I wonder if I am really cut out for motherhood. I know that I do the best that I can, but I sometimes wonder if it is not enough. I see these mothers that seem to have it all together - mothers with perfect budgets; those who have clean homes and freshly cooked meals; those who manage to squeeze in one activity after another and still wear a beautiful smile at the end of the day; those that seamlessly manage to parent a rambunctious toddler while pregnant with number two.

Maybe those women put on a facade of perfection, but I don't think so. Some women really are superhuman and can do just about anything where their children are concerned.

Since becoming a mother, I've had moments where I felt certain things came naturally. For instance, nurturing a child is, perhaps, the most natural thing a woman could do (in my opinion). While breastfeeding was a challenge at the start, I cherished those quiet minutes I shared with Esther and it felt so right to hold her close and nourish her in the way I knew how.

It also comes natural for women to want the best for their children, to do everything in their power to ensure their safety and well being. My head is constantly spinning with thoughts of all the "what-ifs" that plague mothers and I am constantly mulling over ways I can protect Esther from it all.

Still, I am beginning to think that "natural" parenting is a gift more than an inherited trait.

On nights like tonight, where Esther is fussy and hard to please, I get to wishing I had the natural parent gift, or at least some magic word to use that would bring peace to my house. I wish I could be like a couple friends of mine who make motherhood look so easy that they would put June Cleaver to shame.

Instead, I feel like an ever-expanding whale who falls apart every time her daughter cries or falls down. Yes, that is me - the pregnant bride of Frankenstein who works double-time to be the best mommy I can be.

The bottom line is that I love my daughter, but I get frustrated and stressed at the end of a busy day.

I spend my entire morning and afternoon imagining the picture perfect evening: I pick up my daughter who is so happy to see me that she literally skips to the car and happily climbs into her car seat (which, coincidentally, she's miraculously able to buckle on her own, no fussing or tears). We head home on a very peaceful drive, where she's singing and chatting in the backseat and I'm humming happy-go-lucky hippy songs in the front. Once at home, I lovingly pull out the dinner that I made the night before, pop it in the oven to warm, and enjoy playtime with her father and her. After our meal, that everyone happened to enjoy, we fall into our perfectly scheduled routine that leads us to an easy, glorious bed time. We read her a book, give her a bottle, brush her teeth, and kiss her goodnight. And, viola!, she's fast a sleep until morning.

What a dream!

One that is so easily shattered by reality.

This is how it really goes:

I pick up my daughter, who is very happy to see me, but not so happy to leave her Nana's house. I walk her outside, something she enjoys doing, and then fight to get her into her seat. She cries the entire drive home. Dinner was barely a thought in my head that morning, but is suddenly something that desperately needs to be made and eaten before ten that evening. I come in the door and want nothing more than to crash on the couch for five minutes, but the dogs are going crazy, my daughter is teetering between content and unhappy, and my husband has to shower. So I try my best to figure out how to balance it all and cook dinner, but I end up waiting the half hour it takes my husband to finish so that he can either watch the baby or help me cook. We struggle throughout the rest of the evening, wondering why Esther has suddenly decided that solid food is disgusting and how she can be the happiest child anyone has seen until it comes time for bed.

Due to the insanity of bedtime mixed with the insanity that comes with being an unnatural mother, I have come to rely heavily on my husband to assist with putting her to bed each night. Having weaned due to pregnancy, I've instead taken to making her nighttime bottle and feeding her in the rocking chair. My husband then takes over and spends the next hour wrestling the world's strongest baby into her crib. And then the screaming commences. Fortunately, at that point, she tires easily and all it takes is a few reassuring pats from my husband to calm her.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting in our room with my head between my knees crying over the great expectations that had been violently thrown out the window.

When it's all said and done and she's finally asleep, I relax, exhausted husband by my side, a warm cup of hot cocoa in my hands, and a brainless TV show playing quietly in front of me.

And I smile, because I realize, when the house is silent, how much I love my daughter and all the chaos she brings. I realize that there is not a single thing I would change - be it our insane schedule of events or the passion my daughter shows in everything she does.

When I lay my head down in the evening and fade into sleep, the dream begins again and I hope that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be different. I'll wake up and find myself perfectly fitting into the mold of mommy.

But, then again, perfection always was overrated.

Lessons Learned...

I am learning that I am still fairly naive when it comes to a lot of things, espcially parenting and pregnancy.

Here is what I thought:

1. my second pregnancy would be easier than my first
2. having a child already would make pregnancy go quicker and ease any symptoms I might have
3. by 1 year of age, my daughter would morph into this sleeping angel that loves having her own bed each night
4. that the terrible twos actually hit at two years, not 11 months
5. that my daughter would not grow up before my eyes
6. walking would not start until at least a year and, when it did, she wouldn't be the holy terror everyone warned me about

And here is what I have learned:

1. second pregnancies are not easier - in fact, I'm finding that I had forgotten what the first half felt like and I'm freaking out about every little thing once more (hello, self, you've been here before!). I'm also finding that my uterus, while bigger than it was, still stretches and that my morning sickness is not fading as quickly as I would have liked.
2. having a baby to chase around does not make this pregnancy go any faster and does not help me ignore the common discomforts. If anything, it makes it all the more amplified because, not only am I aching with normal things, I'm aching from all the running, bending, and lifting I have to do now.
3. my daughter has no plans of morphing into a sleeping angel. She would much rather scream all night and fight sleep, successfully ruining any chances for a decent night of rest for her parents. But, I have to say, that I still love her beyond all words.
4. the terrible twos are just an estimate. It can hit whenever your kid chooses. In our case, she decided to start early, so I'm hoping she gets past it a little early. Of course, knowing our daughter, that's not likely to happen!
5. Reality check: my daughter turns 1 in less than a month. This was made even more real when her birthday supplies arrived in the mail this week. I can't believe my little girl is growing up so fast! And it seems like yesterday that I was holding her for the first time...
6. walking starts whenever a baby decides it is time and, almost instantly, they become holy terrors - and walking head injuries! My God, my girl hits her head more than I would like!

And, thus, I am daily being schooled by life, pregnancy, and my child and I couldn't be more grateful! Because, while I have to learn the hard way, I wouldn't change a thing!

The time is now...

I looked outside today and saw the changing colors and the sweet smelling autumn rain and wondered how another year of my life has managed to slip by me. Here I am, a week shy of 27, and I still feel so unaccomplished in my existence.

I want more. I want to write full time while working from home so I can be with my children. I want to travel and do mission work. I want to be the type of superwoman who can conquer anything.

But right now I am still me and I am not so sure that the average "me" is really who I want to be anymore.

Through all the changes that have taken place over the past year, the addition of our beautiful daughter and the conception of our second child, my husband and I concluded that it is time to truly live what we believe.

We want to raise our children in an environment of "doing" rather than one of just "dreaming."

So now is the time.

Now we are finally coming to a place where we are examining who we are and what we can do to live differently. We are looking at our age and saying, "we can't wait another 20 years to do what we have always dreamed of doing and to do the things God has called us to do. We just have to do it. We just have to have the faith." So now we spread our arms, close our eyes, and jump.

It will scary. It will mean sailing on uncharted waters. And it will result in the biggest adventure of our lives.

And I can't wait.

Grateful for Who I am Today

I am glad that I am who I am today.

Over twenty-seven years ago, my parents were faced with a decision: carry their child to term and risk severe side effects caused by a prescription my mom was taking or terminate the pregnancy and try for a child at a later date.

At the ages of 18 and 20, they were young, unmarried, and non-Christian. Dad, enlisted with the Coast Gaurd, had orders to leave to Michigan. They could have chosen to end it there. But my parents looked at that doctor and, without hesitation, said, "we're keeping this child."

Months later, on a cool September day, they gave birth to a healthy baby girl.

And nearly 27 years later, that little girl is still healthy, married to the man of her dreams, the mommy to beautiful daughter, and pregnant with her second child.

I am grateful my parents, despite the counsel of doctors, made that choice to bring me into the world. In a world, where so many babies are unwanted and never given the chance to live, I am honored to be here today.

And here I stand, my cup overflowing, knowing with every fiber of my being that I am exactly who God designed me to be. Am I perfect? Of course not. I strive to be the very best that I can be in every circumstance. And whether or not I succeed, I strive to give glory to the Creator who so lovingly crafted me in my mother's womb and who knew who I would be long before I was ever born.

What a miracle and what a blessing! Because God protected me from threats against my existence, because He carried me through years of hardships and blessings, because He never let go of me, no matter the many times I questioned Him, I have been blessed to find myself standing in the midst of many treasures: my faith, my husband, and my children, both born and soon-to-be born.

What an amazing impact two people's decision made!

Destiny is an awesome thing. Its value cannot be quantified or diminished. Every life is a precious gift worth preserving. One cannot look at a tiny blip on a screen or a line on a stick and even begin to fathom the potential such a little being holds. Yet its potential is there, it is real, and, like those of us breathing today, it deserves every opportunity to thrive.

My parents look at me now and tell me that they are glad they chose life. And, when I look into my little girl's eyes and see all the passion and personality contained within her little soul, I can honestly say that I too am grateful for the gift they gave me and, thus, the gift that I have passed to my child.

Living Life and Taking Steps...

Life is challenging, at the very least. We are born into this world without knowing anything and are expected to develop and obtain as much knowledge as we can before finally waving goodbye. Life involves thriving and learning in ways that shape us; gleaning lessons from both the good and bad experiences; developing tenacity through all circumstances; pressing on even when the odds are stacked against us.

And all the while, we are to live life without really knowing what is around the next bend.

Not seeing the future is scary. How do we proceed if we do not know what to expect? How do we plan if, despite having dreams, we do not know the step necessary to obtain our destiny?

It is that ever-present "unknown" that swirls about us that gives us the need to constantly get on our knees and ask God for direction. And it is His direction that gives us purpose and adventure.

He is not boring, that is for sure. In all of my adventures, big and small, I have found the pursuit of God to be both exciting and fulfilling. I am amazed at the places He takes me and the methods He uses to get me there.

But every time I come to a point of change, I grow frustrated and I worry. I worry about making poor decisions. I worry that I'll inadvertently hurt people if I feel God is leading me places. I worry about not having everything in order. And I grow frustrated because, in spite of feeling the winds of change, God isn't always chomping at the bit to tell me what to do.

This is what Tim and I are facing at this moment. We know God is speaking something, but what? We know there are steps we should take, but what are they?

It is hard to say what is next, but I know, deep down, that God is control and that He will reveal our next move when the time is right.

In the meantime, we have resolved to do what we can where we are and to prepare the best that we can for the life-changing event that is around the corner. And we'll enjoy every moment of this adventure that God has blessed us with; welcoming the challenge and welcoming the lessons we are to learn.

Thank God for having a sense of direction and thank God that we have Him there to guide our steps...I really do not know what we would do without Him!

Clocks and Calendars...

Children really do grow up fast. I can't say that I believed it when people told me, but it really is true. I am two weeks away from Esther's nine month birthday and I am shocked by how quickly time flew.

9 months ago, I was wondering when she would arrive.

I was walking around non-stop in hopes of inducing labor (even though I had two weeks until her due date).

I was begging my husband to complete the nursery, so I felt more settled about her arrival, and I was beginning to contemplate when I would go on maternity leave.

I was fretting about possibly having a 10 plus pound baby and hoping I wouldn't go to 41 weeks.

I wasn't so sure I was ready for motherhood at that point.

8 1/2 months ago, she finally arrived - two days past her due date. She came unexpectedly, but took her time once she decided it was time to greet the world. I labored for 18+ hours, three of which were spent pushing. I enjoyed labor, appreciating how feminine and empowered it made me feel, but I really enjoyed the moment she burst in the world (literally) and was placed on my chest that first time.

She was smaller than I expected, although admittedly bigger than the average baby (8 lbs, 13 oz), and she was beautiful. We immediately connected, although I soon discovered that being a mother was a lot more difficult than I anticipated.

There was so much learning that took place in those early weeks. I had to learn to nurse, my husband and I had to learn to respond to her needs, and we had to learn what worked best for our family. We somehow managed to figure it out and it was not long before we became confident in our ability to parent our child. Through it all, we loved our daughter and how much she relied on us. She was so tiny and sweet.

It was not long, though, before she developed a sense of independence and wanted to see things and move. Every month she pushed herself more and more until the current time where she is constantly on the move!

I thought I'd have months on end to enjoy her infancy, but it has gone by so quickly that I feel like I missed out on so much.

Still, I love the little person she has become. I have to say that I really enjoy this stage. She hugs me and cuddles me in between activities. She's excited about every little thing, from the fish at the pet store to the new food she is trying. She lights up when she sees me and plays hard with her daddy.

I love her so much!

The moral of the story is this: enjoy every stage while you can!

Foot-in-Mouth Disorder

I have a disease and it seems to be getting worse with age and with motherhood.

I have never been diagnosed by a doctor, but I know that it is very real and that is causes me much discomfort. I like to refer to it as "Foot-in-Mouth Disorder."

If you have never heard of this issue, here are the symptoms:

• Mouth opening at inopportune moments, spilling forth the worst possible words at the worst possible moment
• Misrepresenting oneself by unintentionally saying something that 1. does not accurately represent what one was thinking or trying to say and 2. can come across as inappropriate or insulting to the receiver
• Making sarcastic jokes that are not seen as such by receiver

This disorder is often genetic, although it has been known to spontaneously strike a person from time-to-time (although, scientists are finding evidence that this may be caused when two latent carriers of the gene pass it on to their offspring).

I myself inherited from my father's line and have struggled with it my entire life. It really does get progressively worse.

Just today, in fact, I made myself appear to be an insensitive, non-accepting jerk, and all because I misunderstood a reference someone else made. Maybe the only cure is to learn the art of self-control and listening. Who knows!

All I know is this: My husband thinks my problem is funny, my dad relates well with it, and one of my supervisors, I'm pretty sure, thinks I'm an idiot.

I just hope I don't pass this gene on to my children....