Birth of an Identity

My friend Whitney reminded me that the moment of giving birth to a baby there is actually another birth taking place.

This is your own rebirth, in a word, the birth of a new identity.

Prior to having a baby, the identity of Mom is one you know you will assume. You wistfully pass through days folding all the cute tiny baby clothes and getting midnight ice-cream knowing you won't have this chance when the baby comes. You realize there are freedoms you will give up, sacrifices you will make, nights you won't ever sleep. But even in this knowing, nothing - literally nothing - can prepare you for becoming a Mom. The daily (hourly, minute-ly) decisions you will be making for the good of your child, the constant questions of figuring it out, and even the loneliness that can come with being a new mom.

I am faced with a whole new identity crisis in a way, reminiscent of my 22 year-old self wondering who I will become and what I will do with my life. In some ways the doors feel wide open, readily available to walk through and claim a whole new status. And in others, they feel shut and locked as my days are solely focused on a tiny human who can't talk back to me.

And I remember, it's this. It's my son. It's day to day to day with him. Being present to his needs, to his gifts, to his emotions. God has called me to this right now. God has chosen me to be his mom. He has entrusted this little human to us! What a gift.

I also don't want to be a mom wrapped up in my children so much so that I lose myself. I want to stand on my passions, my motivations, and the gifts I can bring to this world. What else was I made to do? This question can be paralyzing, looming over me like a cloud. I want to know that I am contributing my time and resources to making this world better. To impacting lives. To changing other humans. This drive didn't go away with stepping into motherhood. But it seems so hard to do with another little around-the-clock dependent.

I am reminded - here, now, this. Be here with Jack. Be present now. Be in this. Raising him is changing the world. This is my new identity taking form and I can't wait to see where else it leads.

On Being a Mom

Ten months ago I uttered the words "I'm your Mom" for the first time - a phrase I had always imagined would carry an unexplainable feeling hidden within it. An experience that carries so much weight in my life that it captures a million emotions all at once and suddenly I can see them all in front of me and hold them in my arms. There were times in life when I didn't know if I would ever get to say this sentence; and there were moments where I was simply afraid to. July 12, 2018 changed my whole world so that it's often hard to look back and truly remember what life was like before Jack.

Even thought I have babysat my whole life, studied Child Development, and have a genuine love for children, when I got pregnant with Jack I doubted that I would know what to do and how to do it. How do I know when to feed him? Or put him to sleep? Or swaddle him the right way? How do I know how to hold him or carry him or take him into the grocery store? The most surprising thing about stepping into motherhood is the instinctual response to my child. Even just figuring it out seems like an inherent Knowing; like I have always known how to care for our little Jack. Perhaps because it comes from a place of love, and love is something that can't be taught. It's a feeling you just Know - it's not a question or figuring out or even a decision you are forced to make - it overcomes you and bursts out of your heart and escapes your body in a way that the only way to describe is that it feels like love. 

That's what it's like with Jack. It feels like love. The purest, scariest, deepest love I know because there is always lingering the scary idea of loss.

I was listening to a talk on grief today from one of my favorite professors at Wheaton - Dr. Scottie May - and what she said was beautiful. If you know grief it is because you know love. This is why love is so vulnerable; this is why we sometimes hide from the idea of it and shield ourself from the feeling of it. When we love, there is always the lurking potential for grief.

In this life, I will choose love. And I will be open-hearted and fully alive in this love. Whatever happens, I pray Jack knows my love. And through this imperfect love, he will search for and come to know God's perfect love. That is my prayer as a Mom. Not to measure up or be anything; not to have the smartest, funniest, most athletic child; not to show people that we are a family that has it all together. It is now and always will be that my husband and child(ren) know the height and width and depth of love. The kind that brings us to our knees in prayer; teaches us how to show kindness and service to people; and seeks to consistently find God in our midst. The kind that is unexplainable but purely beautiful; the kind that courageously faces the possibility of the grief because of how it captures your whole being with its intrinsic power. The kind that feels like a natural overflow of who you are so that you can't just walk away and pretend it doesn't exist. The truth is, it's worth it; it's always worth it.

We love shopping trips together

Ben sent this to me while I was away for the weekend - it's one of my favorites ever!

His favorite little spot right now is right next to my shoes in the closet. 

Melt my heart right here.

The Experience of Joy

Ben and I recently watched the Brene Brown talk on Netflix. I have loved her ever since her Power of Vulnerability TED talk in 2011, which quickly rose to the top of the Most Watched Ted Talks list for putting definitions to words that weren't part of our every day nomenclature - vulnerability, shame, resilience, etc. These days, it seems like you can't leave a conversation without some nod to one of these words. They have seeped into our culture, keeping up with social media's trend to normalize certain human tendencies. But at the time of watching this TED talk, I couldn't stop thinking about these terms as they applied to my life journey.

While I cried my way through most of her Netflix debut, one part that particularly struck me was the vulnerability of joy. She posits that joy is perhaps the most vulnerable of all emotions, because when you allow yourself to experience the depths of true joy, there is always the thought of the opposite of joy - the horrible thing coming around the corner if I allow myself to experience this emotion. She talks about moments as a mother, rocking her babies to sleep being overcome by joy and then suddenly feeling paralyzed with fear picturing the most dreaded thing happening to them. (We've all been there, yes?!) We want to fight joy and push it away because the flip side of joy is scary.

Lately I have been trying to be present to joy in the moment. Yes, there are lingering thoughts that bring fear and I have the desire to protect Jack from all of the things that could hurt him. But I also want to be vulnerable and allow myself to experience the richness of joy without the fear of what could happen. This is a discipline I want to work on throughout my days with Jack.

Just for fun... this little Avocado Face.