In the early days, worn-out running shoes and a rickety double stroller held my sanity. Daily I tied up those laces like I was girding my flailing ability to mother. I knew no other way. I strapped the three-year-old in the front stroller seat, the two-year-old in the rear, and doled out an abundance of snacks and sippy cups. I prayed their wiggly bodies would calm under the security of the Houdini-like harnesses. If not, at least they were contained.
Then I hoisted the baby into the strappy apparatus attached to my chest. Tiny sun hat and pacifier, check. Burp cloth tucked in my back pocket in case the morning’s projectile spit-up wasn’t quite finished, check. We were ready to go. Me and my boys.
My feet pounded the pavement as I strained to propel the precious cargo forward. I pushed harder trying to relieve the pressure that pressed from the inside. I was out of breath before I made it to the end of the block. The boys babbled to one another about kitties perched in picture windows and earthworms squished flat on driveways.
I battled my thoughts.
Just go home! You’re sleep-deprived and out of shape. Why torture yourself this way? Turn on the TV for them and go back to bed. But then I’d hear, No, you need this. Stay the course. You’ll find your rhythm. It will get easier. Just breathe. Just breathe.
As much as my legs hurt and lungs burned, I had to keep going. Sanity is a good thing. I turned toward the foothills aglow with morning light and made my way to the quaint main street just coming alive. Shop owners turned on lights, hot coffee pots steamed as waitresses in maroon aprons filled mugs for customers huddled around small sidewalk tables.
The wobbly left stroller wheel clunked hard over another concrete bulge. The baby kicked his legs and a tiny sock fell off again. I paused to pick it up, sip some water, kiss each toddler.
I kept pushing north until shops and crowds fell behind us. Historic bungalows and craftsman homes now lined the wide street. Ample sidewalks flanked each side. A tree overloaded with bright yellow blossoms popped glory against the blue sky.
Fresh air like soul medicine. The most peace I’d feel all week.
Motherhood comes to everyone differently. Some women dream of wrapping babies in pastel blankets from the time they were little girls. Some feel awkward just thinking about kids. Some stumble upon motherhood in pink-line terror. Some moms never have a swollen womb but their hearts swell for children who need a home. C-section to homebirth to courtroom declaration, though our roads to becoming a mom may vary, I believe one thing is the same: the journey of being a mother is never quite what we expected.
I never expected to have three boys in three and a half years. I never expected to go from a thriving career woman, who felt sure in her capabilities and solid in her contributions, to a woman who felt ill-equipped to mother — a squishy, sleep-deprived shadow of my former self drowning in diapers whose felt-purpose moved little beyond milk machine and butt wiper.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved my babies.
I loved Noah my firstborn, Elias who came nineteen months later, and Jude who crashed onto the scene twenty-two short months after that. I loved their satin skin and bald baby heads. I loved cuddling them in footie pajamas and singing more refrains of Jesus Loves Me than the world has ever heard. I loved the way all their tiny fingers curled around just one of mine.
I loved each wobbly first step and wonky first word. I loved bearing witness to little big personalities emerge. I cherished every belly giggle, silly cackle, quirk, smirk, and eye-shining smile.
I loved being a mama. I still do.
But I never expected when people said motherhood was hard that the description would fall shockingly short. The beauty and blessing of motherhood also exceeded my expectations! But the struggle — oh, the struggle — was so much greater than finding the right bedtime routine or getting a kid to eat green beans. My hunch is I’m not the only one who feels this way.
If you’ve ever whispered to yourself, Motherhood is too hard. If you’ve ever locked yourself in the bathroom crying tears for reasons you could not name. If you’ve ever loved your life deeply yet desperately wanted an escape. If you’ve ever felt achingly alone though touched a thousand times by tiny hands every waking hour, you are not alone.
If you’ve ever longed for just one friend who gets it, gets you, who nods in a mom-only-knows kind of knowing. If you’ve ever felt so not cut out for the job, if you’ve ever been convinced someone else would do it all better, hold it all together, you are not alone.
If you’ve ever questioned, Where is God in this? How do I not fail my kids in this? How do I define myself, re-find myself in this land of motherhood, where I feel both at home and like a stranger? You are not alone.
Sometimes in the flailing, we just need to hear that someone else has been there too.
Seven years have passed, and I have a different pair of worn-out sneakers. My kids are all in elementary school and sleeping through the night (praise the Lord!). Instead of pushing a stroller, I wake up early and hike with a friend.
But I’ll never forget the days when fresh air in my lungs and feet pounding pavement was the rhythm God used to calm my frantic soul and awaken my sleep-deprived mind to His whisper:
I see you, daughter. You feel alone, but you never truly are. I am with you — right here, right beside you, blessing you with wild littles to hug and hold and wrestle and love. I’m here giving you more than you can handle so you reach your hand out to Me. Won’t you invite Me into your joys and struggles? Let Me teach you how to parent your children by understanding how I father you with gentleness, discipline, wisdom, grace, and sacrificial love. Dear one, lean into My love.
Maybe this is His whisper to you today too.
My daughter is scheduled to start preschool in exactly two weeks. I’m a mix of emotions. Intellectually, I know that will be great for her development and social skills. But, my heart is really tugging at me since I have been home with her since she is born. How did other Mommas handle the start of school?
Elizabeth,
You’re not alone, mama, in feeling the pain of transition. I’d encourage you to make space for all your feelings. You can be excited for your daughter and all the new things she’ll learn and fun experiences she’ll have in preschool, yet also mourn that the season of just being home together is changing. In these heart-tugging kind of times is when my gratitude for what I have has grown along with an expectant heart for the new kinds of good God has for us in the season to come. xx
Praying for you Elizabeth…Becky’s wisdom is spot on!
Bev xo
I can never hear this reminder too many times, and even today, I am having coffee later with another mum, and together we will talk about the hard letting go of sons moving to western states shaped like boxes and the empty bedrooms and bare closets left behind. We never stop needing Him and each other.
“We never stop needing Him and each other.” Amen, Michele. You capture it all right there. Hugs to your mama heart today.
Dearest Becky, thank you for your beautiful honest post. So many Mums think they’re the only ones to feel like you did. I pray they would find a safe person to share with. Also I pray wisdom for the Mums struggling to look after grown up offspring, who left, then returned home. I pray they would find the balance between mothering & smothering..God is our perfect guide.
Beautiful things to pray, Ros. Thank you.
My children are the exact same age differences as yours (with a girl in the middle of two boys). You captured those feelings of questioning so well. Thank you for taking me back and for reminding me how far we’ve come.
One day, with two in the double stroller and one strapped to my chest, I was simply walking through the park and couldn’t hold back the trickle of tears. Another women saw us, put her hands to her heart and gave me a thumbs up. As we passed, she said, “It gets better.” I clung to that and am still thankful for her encouragement and camaraderie.
Missy, that little snapshot of motherhood solidarity gives me chills. What power we have as women to see one another. Sometimes that’s all we need to remember that God sees us too and walks with us. And yes, thankful for how far we’ve come too. xx
Love this — “Stay the course. You’ll find your rhythm. It will get easier.” So true. My worn jogging stroller was also a lifesaver of sorts. Motherhood does not always look pretty, but looking over the landscape of it all, it is a beautiful picture to behold. And over it all is our redeeming God, taking each of our moments—the epic failures and the victories—and weaving them into a treasure that we will one day look back on with gratitude.
Beautifully said, Denise!
lovely write up. I clearly remember those days of young children..mine were a few years apart but always on the go !!
I love being a mom above all else , it feels to me that if we give what we can & honestly pray through the rest it turns out well. the younger years definetly are harder tho..but thankfully time moves on and babies sleep through the night …many years later teens sleep alot and we are the ones waking them up in the morning !!! ( after all those nights they woke us up all hours as a baby).
while it’s a hard tiring job..capture each moment . praise God with a open heart that you have a gift to love. mine are heading off to college soon…i still wonder where the toddler days went that felt like yesterday.
Krissy, yes! Motherhood seasons can shift so fast…even when the days are looong. Gratitude definitely helps weigh down each moment. xx
Good morning, Becky! Yes, I remember that alone feeling. My kids are all grown now, with kids of their own. I came from a generation where the women could never admit we didn’t have it all together. We trudged on in our own little worlds, completely oblivious to everyone else’s struggles. We were always “fine”. Years later we admitted we weren’t “fine” at all. Thank the Lord, young women are better now at reaching out to each other. May you all be blessed in small ways and great!
Thank you, Irene. I’m really grateful to have friends in real life and places like this online to be honest about both the beauty and struggles of faith, motherhood, and womanhood.
Thank you for this. I so needed it. You described how I feel everyday. I needed to be reminded that although I feel alone, I am not. God is with me in the crazy of raising a strong willed toddler.
Sending you a virtual hug, cup of coffee, and very real prayers today, Beth. God gave me three *spirited* boys. He was with me in the toddler years…and I know God is with you too. xx
Thank you for sharing God’s whisper, I needed to hear it today. I am a single working mom of 3 little ones born in my heart. My oldest is my son who is 3 1/2 years old and my two girls will be 15 and 18 months old in a few days. Knowing that I prayed to be a mom at this very late stage in my life makes it hard for me to be honest with others about the struggles. God has mercifully put me contact with several other ladies through a support group of adoptive and foster moms and on a daily basis sends people my way to discuss fostering and adopting. Somedays I feel like a fraud because while I have a full time nanny I never feel that my kiddos get enough of my individual time and attention or that I too have just fallen down on the bathroom floor in a puddle of tear feeling overwhelmed and ill equipped as a mother. However, each time I pray for God to help and guide me to be the best mother they need me to be, I exhale and know I am turning it over to the One who knows best. My children are a blessing above and beyond my wildest dreams even when all three are crying and trying to be held and comforted at the same time. When my son says I love you the more and the most and my girls try to say mama I am melted by their love and reminded of God’s great love for me. Be Blessed Today!
Oh, Lisa. You capture the beauty and joy right alongside the very real struggle of motherhood. Whether we stumble into motherhood through birth, marriage, fostering, or adoption, I truly believe God has a plan and purpose for us and our kids. He’s faithful to fill in the gaps for what we lack and tomorrow bring mercies new. You are a warrior, mama! Proud of you and praying for you today.
Becky,
I’ve never mothered littles. I did mother two aging adults. That was the hardest times in my life. There is no preparation for that. Both of mine had severe dementia. I never knew when the phone would ring & off we’d go to hospital. There were times I wanted to just run away. Tired of always being anxious about what was to come. Often praying God would take them home to end their suffering. God & a good friend helped me through those times. Now I’m here to say to others going through that “You are not alone!!” Have questions or just want to talk I’m here for you. I understand some of what you’re dealing with.
Blessings 🙂
Thank you for sharing! It is always great to hear we are not alone from other Mothers. I have a 13 year old son, 10, and 8 year old Daughters. It is definitely hard.