Thursday, January 4, 2018

The New Year as a Young Mom

           The past few days a lot of people have asked if I did anything fun to celebrate the New Year, to which I laughed and responded with, "No. I have a baby." But in all reality this New Year's one of the most special I've had the privilege of celebrating, and probably not for the reason you think.

You see, here’s the thing about becoming a parent; your life never really goes back to the way it was. Sure your life settles down eventually, you get into a rhythm and a routine, you learn the ins and outs of parenthood and find a new “normal”. But it’s never quite the same.
As a parent you suddenly find yourself devoting a good chunk of your time and energy to keep another sweet, adorable, sometimes seemingly possessed, little human being alive. You feed them, change them, lay them down for naps (or die trying). You soothe boo-boos and temper tantrums. You clean up vomit and blowouts and other messes resulting from bodily functions you didn’t even know about until you became a parent.
No. After you have kids your life is never the same. But it’s not just because of the endless pile of laundry you seem to have these days (who knew the tiniest person in the house could up the laundry exponentially?). It’s not because everywhere you go now you have to lug a giant car seat or corral a bunch of toddlers into your new, sweet, minivan. It’s not even because a new, little human changes the entire dynamic between you and your spouse.
The biggest thing that changes is that, in a way, your life is no longer your own. Somebody’s very life is placed into your hands. You literally have the power to shape someone’s entire existence, for better or worse. You nurture them and care for them and help them grow. It’s difficult and amazing and challenging and wonderful and at times… lonely.

There. I said it.

Because when you have kids, you give up nearly everything. And it’s worth it. SO worth it. But suddenly you have to make sacrifices and put someone’s needs before your own desires. It’s very similar to getting married, except that you’re marrying an adult who can (hopefully) take care of themselves and survive perfectly fine without you.
But when you have a baby they’re quite literally dependent on you for EVERYTHING. You sacrifice your sleep, your freetime, your hobbies, date nights, girls nights, showers, vacations, and much, much more.

And at times, it’s really, really hard.

And it’s made harder when you feel like no one else really gets it. You see, I didn’t really get a typical “teenage experience”. I started taking college classes at sixteen and got a job a few months later. Then I graduated, got engaged at eighteen, married at nineteen and after three months of marriage learned that I was pregnant.
It was exciting! And fun! We were having a baby! But here’s the thing about getting married young and having a baby, you kind of feel like the odd one out.
I’ve realized the past few months that a strange sort of resentment had been building up inside of me. My and husband and I don’t exactly fit the mold. College age students who are married with a baby are just not something you find much these days. Sure we have married friends with kids, but they’re several years older than us. And we have some younger friends who are married, but most of them aren’t ready to have a kids yet.
And then there are the friends who aren’t married at all. The ones who are going to school and traveling to other countries and having fun 21st birthday parties. Just living life and embracing their youth!
And sometimes I scroll through facebook and can’t help but feel like an outsider. Like I missed out somehow. I didn’t get to go to a university. I didn’t get to study abroad and travel. I didn’t get to have a fun night out with my friends for my 21st.
And to be honest it took me longer than it should have to realize what was going on. I was jealous. Jealous of the friends who can go wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted. Jealous of the friends who’ve decided to wait on kids and now get to travel with their friends or spouses. Jealous that they could sleep whenever they felt like it! (Seriously though. Sleep is a luxury these days.)
And when you’re one of the only people your age with kids it’s really easy to feel completely alone, like nobody gets it. After all, there’s a reason people are waiting to have kids. I realized I’d been begging some of my friends and family to have kids not because “It’s the best thing ever!” and “Levi needs friends and cousins!” but mostly because I didn’t want to feel so alone in motherhood.

Then it hit me the other day like a ton of bricks. After church my husband and I loaded up Levi and decided to go for a hike. We strapped Levi into his carrier and started walking. It was a beautiful day. A little cold, but the sun was shining and we hiked along the lake. And I realized, I loved my family.
I know, shocker.
      But it was more than just realizing my love for my family. I’ve always loved them. It was realizing that I loved them so much that I’d looked to them for complete fulfillment, when I should have been looking to God. I love my husband and my son. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But they will never be enough for me. At the end of the day God is the only one who can truly fulfill me.
In that moment, it was as if he whispered into my heart, reminding me that I love the life he has given me, that he has placed me where I am for a reason.
God has placed me in my life as a wife and a mother. He hasn’t placed me in a big university. He hasn’t placed me overseas traveling. He hasn’t placed me at some party. He’s placed me right here, right now as a wife and mom. It’s tempting to feel like I missed out somehow. But if this is the life God has called me to, am I really missing out?

And later that night, while other people were ringing in the new year with parties and events and fireworks I was sitting in a rocking chair holding my sweet, sleepy, baby boy. And for the first time in along time I realized I wouldn’t have it any other way.


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