I have been finding motherhood to be an experience that defies the capture of words, although I have spent a significant amount of time “tracking” this experience since I became a mother nearly a year ago. That being said, here are some of my feeble attempts to express the essence of motherhood that I have found to be so life altering and essentially other. However, before I do so, let me note that I believe that any true relationship entailing knowing and being known is life altering in some way. I do not believe that one needs to be a mother or parent in order to grow in depth or meaning, as there are innumerable ways that each of us experiences growth in our own unique life journeys. Following are merely some of my personal reflections on how my life has been changing since I became a momma.
I first started thinking about how to put words to motherhood when I and my husband were still in the hospital with our then-newborn baby; I was trying to make sense of hitherto unimagined experiences ushered in by the arrival of our tiny, precious little man. The word I found then, and continue to find today, that comes even a tiny bit close to capturing my experience of motherhood thus far is “profound”. Profound in that it has such a weight to it, both literally and figuratively. Profound in that there is such an ocean of emotion, such a strength of relationship (not only with my baby, but also with my husband), such a pushing of physical and emotional boundaries. Profound in that it has such depth to it. Profound in that it is serving as such a catalyst for a growing and extending of myself in ways I previously never experienced or even imagined. Motherhood is profound in that it is indelibly changing me.
When thinking of my experiences in motherhood, I sometimes think of a metaphor involving a jar/vessel that holds experiences. Before becoming a mother, I experienced life from within the parameters of a certain sized jar, and had rich relationships and emotions and ongoing areas of growth within this space. Yet somehow through motherhood so far, my jar has been growing; the parameters of my jar have changed and, it feels, deepened in certain ways such that there is more space and thus more room to hold and experience: my joy is more joyful, my love is more reckless, my sadness is darker, my anxiety is more chest crushing, my exhaustion is more perpetual, my sacrifice is greater, my vulnerability more apparent, my finitude more humbling, my need for grace is more obvious… It is as though I am myself in a new way that is not incongruent with who I was before, but is nonetheless other – as I am called to love and sacrifice in ways that previously did not even exist for me, because no one needed me to love or even to be in the innumerable unique ways my baby now needs me.
I recognize myself, but I do not fully recognize myself. In this, labor seems to foreshadow parenthood – in labor I literally “pushed” to the utter limit of my physical, mental, and emotional capacities to usher my baby into the world, and in doing so saw a “me” that in many ways surprised me and seemed rather foreign. Now, in the ongoing journey of motherhood I find the relentless “pushing” of a metaphorical labor to include many instances that call me to come to the end of myself and yet to still love more and give more of myself to now usher my baby through childhood to adulthood; in the process I find I am becoming someone who I was not before. And I think that overall this is a positive change, or at least I hope it is. As I find myself imperfectly striving to love and disciple and cherish and raise my baby alongside my husband, I am deeply humbled as I realize day by day that I am paradoxically far more capable and far less capable than I previously believed. I can love in ways that I could not have imagined before, but my finitude and selfishness and sin and desperate need for grace are also all the more obvious. How I need grace from my husband, from my baby, from my family and friends. Ultimately, how I need grace from Jesus. I pray that seeking to walk the journey of motherhood drives me closer to the cross, and that in the end this new me will be a more sanctified me who can love others more truly.
I feel that before I close I want to mention my beloved husband, as he and I are forever linked as we journey through life – including our new adventures of parenthood – together. Seeing him love both me and our baby so gently, strongly, unwaveringly, graciously, and self-sacrificially has filled me with such deep joy and appreciation that I find myself daily falling even more in love with him. Perhaps someday I will write more about my labor experience, but for now I will say that while it was unspeakably hard, the tender moments I shared with my husband as he loved me – even the previously unseen parts (literal and metaphorical) of me – and stayed present with me and encouraged me and cried with me and hoped with me and celebrated with me and sacrificed with me will forever be cherished in my heart. In that moment, I witnessed his metaphorical jar/vessel growing too, as he was loving me in ways that were not incongruent with who he was before but that were new and incredible nonetheless. And I continue to witness his jar growing as he continues to love me and our baby every day of our new lives. Neither of us are the same as we were when we first met, or were married, or even before we had our baby, but how could we be? If parenthood – both motherhood and fatherhood – is indeed profound, how could it not leave permanent marks of love?