Where Does God Fit In?
It’s been awhile… Hasn’t it? Can I ask why nobody warned me that motherhood would be such a ball of vast emotions?
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| Jackson at 8 Months! |
I can go from loving my life to crying in the shower in a matter of a couple hours, sometimes less. I even broke down at work. As in, tears were streaming down my face, snot splashing on the carpet, ugly cry… all in front of my boss. That cardinal rule of not crying in the office? Yeah, that flew out the window, along with my head. Oops.
Half of me is scared to admit this and write it for all to see because I’m sure I’ll get emails from people telling me I should go see a shrink. Motherhood really shouldn’t be this hard or complicated for me. I need to be having fun. It’s been eight months already…snap out of it any day now…. The stress is no good. Time is slipping away from me…. Milestones are passing me by and I’m never going to get them back. Jackson won’t ever be eight months old again.
I’m not knocking therapists. It’s just when I finally even get the option of working out, getting a massage or seeing a therapist. A therapist comes in third. I made it to the gym for the first time in three weeks. I finally used the gift card for an hour-long massage that I got after Jackson was born. Plus, is the grocery store right next to the therapist?
My time is more valuable than ever. I have to be prepared like a lioness about to pounce on her prey all the time. I need lists stuffed into my purse and coat pockets just to keep on top of things: grocery lists, dinner menus for the week, bills I need to pay, things I should try and get to over the weekend, some dreams I need to keep chasing after so I’m not forgotten. I never know what might pop up to throw my mind into a tornado and spit it out jumbled. Without my lists, my family would be lost, unhealthy, living paycheck to paycheck and eating out way too much, and I would be in an institution or on a lot of drugs.
My Google calendar is full of reminders so I don’t forget a thing. A thing. Like watering the plants on Sunday. Or making sure I check the trunk of my car just in case I accidentally opened it from my pocket again for the hundredth time.
Besides work meetings, that’s about all I get to be in charge of these days. I can’t control when Jackson will get sick. When Karl comes home from work. How many times Jackson will get up during the night. When something will change. If Jackson will get hurt or …or….or…
So I hold it in and pretend everything is fabulous, until someone asks me how it’s going and I burst into tears in front of a pregnant friend at a birthday party. Neat, huh? Way to go, Christie. Scare the dickens out of her why don’t ya.
Spastic much?
The other half of me KNOWS there are other moms out there going through the same thing. Because you’ve told me. THANK GOD. I know I’m kind of normal. Right? I mean, not everything is as it appears in Facebook pictures on my newsfeed or in Christmas cards or in my People magazine or in fancy new cars or big houses. Everyone has their own story, their own issues, their own troubles and hardships. Most of the time they are WORSE than my own.
Because of these brave souls, I’m able to take a step back and suck in a few breaths of air. I’m able to pick up my head that’s been rolling all over the floor and stick it back on. Sometimes backwards, but hey…it’s on and there. These moms let me laugh off my psychotic side and I’m back to loving myself for who I am. I keep on truckin.
The other super moms out there doing it all…well, I commend you for having it all figured out. For letting things roll off your back. For not getting too far ahead of yourself. But my God, how do you do it?
I don’t like comparing. I was always somewhat confident. Sure I have a bigger nose, shapeless eyebrows, smaller chest and a big ol’ booty, but who cares…I think I’m pretty fun to be around despite all my physical flaws. Then all of a sudden I become a mom and BAM. Compare city and everyone always has it better and I’m doing it all wrong. WTF is that? She gets to stay at home. She must be so happy. She has it all. She has a husband who makes tons of money. She gets to visit her family whenever she wants. She gets her husband at nights and on weekends. She has that and this…
Hello. I have an amazing son who is healthy. We have a roof over our head. Karl and I actually like to hang out and spend time together. The three of us get another day together. Isn’t that enough?
You would think so, especially with the horrible, unthinkable school shooting in Newtown.
We get another day.
We get another day.
WE GET ANOTHER DAY.
Yes, that is enough. That should be enough.
Open your eyes, Christie.
Two minutes later and I’m going to town again with my thoughts and attacking my self-worth as a mom. That isn’t very nice of me. I think back on my life and I am SO thankful for the life I had growing up. That I even had a chance to live. My parents loved me beyond love. We sure had fun. Even when my heart was breaking and bad stuff happened, I grew into me. Someone who is ready to shine like the best of them.
I want to give that to Jackson. I want him to have it all and all of me. And for some reason in my warped mind I don’t think I can because I’m working all the time. But there MUST be a reason I am working. I am me. Christie. Not my mom. This is my story now.
When I thought I was ready for something to happen in my life, I really wasn’t. When I thought I could handle something, I couldn’t. But then all of a sudden someone would walk in my life and knock my socks off. An opportunity was handed to me. A seed was planted inside me and life blossomed. How and why do things happen when they do? I don't know.
Can I just hang on for a second and ENJOY where I am right this moment? Some really amazing things are happening right before my eyes and I'm always worried about tomorrow. What is the rush???
And then it hits me. The only person who knows when the timing is right is God. For some reason he’s gotten me through it all. He’s gotten me this far. The good. The awesome. The bad and the ugly. And I keep coming up stronger. Why should I doubt him now? And why must I keep avoiding him? Forgetting about him? Why must I always be in the driver’s seat? Move over God, here comes Christie! Beep-beep.
Is it because we haven’t officially met? Where would we meet? Over a cup of coffee? Maybe a glass of wine? Sometimes I talk to myself in my car... I wonder if he's listening? Laughing? Shaking his head? What would we talk about if he could answer back?
Then I kind of get nervous. How can I trust someone who I’ve never met guide me through this really important job called motherhood? To be my warrior when I can’t muster up the energy to fight for myself? Can I really lean on him? I mean, this is FOR real. I was fine with screwing up when it was just me. Even when it came to Karl because I could look in his eyes and see the love. I could hug him and feel the love.
Can I feel God? Well...actually sometimes I think I do.
In the dark hours of the night when it’s just me and Jackson and all is quiet, except for Jackson making his humming noises as he nurses, I feel my heart grow. I physically feel my heart stretch to my throat. I study the lids shielding Jackson's eyes, and long lashes and little nose and stroke his soft cheeks and can’t even believe for a second I am his mom. That I have been gifted the opportunity to feel all I am feeling. That he was inside me growing not so long ago, that out of a million little swimmers, it was him that was chosen to make it. Just for us. How is that even possible? How did I get so lucky???
Not sure.
I can’t help but believe there is a God and he really does know what he is doing after I experience these moments. And these moments keep coming. Not just when I'm nursing, but throughout the day. And I have a feeling they are going to continue (and I'm already addicted. I don't want to miss a single one of them). So then I ask myself.... If I’m capable of loving Jackson beyond a love I never knew I had in me, then God certainly loves me beyond the definition of love. Like a blow my mind kind of love.
That’s heavy stuff.
Maybe it’s OK not to have all the answers. Could I handle them? Probably not. I mean, what if I was to die before Jackson ever really knew me? Would I love him less because I didn’t physically exist anymore? Hell no. Never. Would I know he’d grow into someone absolutely amazing? No doubt in my mind.
But how would I ever prove that to him? I wouldn't be able to. And right now I get the chance to prove over and over again how much I love him. This is MY chance. Right now. Right here. This life. That's all he wants and needs. Otherwise I'd hope Jackson would believe what I feel inside is REAL. Oh, man, I’d PLEAD for him to believe it. I already know our son is going to be amazing beyond amazing. I cringe at the thought of him not thinking that about himself. Maybe if I wasn't around, he’d see a picture or two of us together or read a few blog posts now and again. But me not being around would really mean he’d have to dig deep and trust that my love is bigger than he’ll ever know. Is that what God wishes for me? That I had an inkling of how much he loves me...no matter what?
I suspect God feels that about me. That I'm amazing, despite the crazy, the tough days, the madness. And I’m sure it pains him when I doubt myself or am hard on myself. What he sees in me is love and amazing. When I struggle so much, all he really wants is for me to know he’s right there to catch me, to carry me. He clearly knows what I’m capable of and believes in ME. Maybe I need to try doing the same…
BELIEVE IN HIM.
