I have written and rewritten this piece at least three times. It has set me on an unexpected path of exploration. Exploration of myself, and my faith. I have struggled to find my voice; to formulate the words to accurately express the feelings in my heart. Perhaps because it is such a vulnerable and scary topic. Perhaps because it’s not something we talk about much. That may be because we don’t want to give weight to the words, or acknowledge the depth of these fears. But, I know I am not alone in carrying these worries. And knowing that my friends, and fellow moms understand them has been quite freeing. One of my biggest hopes for this space is that it will provide a sense of community. I want my readers to feel supported, connected, united, and inspired. And, part of achieving that requires opening our minds and hearts to all aspects of this parenting journey. The good, the bad, and the ugly. This post represents a lot of these pieces. Each time I work on it, I’m reminded of a quote from ‘Present Over Perfect’ by Shauna Niequist. She talks about presenting God with your vinegar, which ultimately leaves you that shimmery, rich, golden oil. Give him your fears - in all their ugly truth, and you will receive light.

Motherhood is not for the faint of heart. I’ve learned about my strengths, and what this body can withstand - both mentally, and physically. I’ve also learned about fears that are felt deep in my bones.

Once you bring life to, or take responsibility for, another human your understanding of the value of life becomes so much bigger. And when your kids are young, you are truly their life source. They NEED you on a physical, and emotional level. All. The. Time.

New Emotions

When our oldest was born, I remember feeling overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotions. Exhaustion, wonder, protective instincts, and deep, deep love. But there was also another feeling that arrived with this 5 pound 13 ounce bundle of joy: fear, in its purest form. Not the fear I was used to from my former life. This was a new sensation, and I soon realized it will forever be a part of me.

This new fear would creep up in the middle of the night. Is he breathing? Is that blanket blocking his airway? It would pay visits during the day. Is his helmet on tight enough? Is he buckled in safely? But, the fear became an even angrier monster anytime we had a break in our routine; especially if I had to be away from our baby. An irrational and inexplicable sense of dread would sneak into my mind, my body would tense up, and my imagination would run wild. Being a stay-at-home-mom, it’s not often that I am away from the kids, especially for an extended period of time. This is both wonderful and difficult. It can make being apart feel foreign and frightening. Like a part of my body is missing.

There are certainly times when I yearn for a little separation, but these feelings of fear still bubble at the surface.

I remember putting our life insurance policy together while I was pregnant with our second son. I was a total wreck. The thought of being taken from our kids would send me into a dark hole, and I would end each call with our agent fighting back tears. I was terrified that naming caretakers on paper, and making arrangements for a tragic ‘what-if,’ was somehow foreshadowing our future. 

Who would make sure that Max only has elastic waste pants to wear, because jeans are too tight? Who would remember to give Levi not one, not two, but three pacifiers anytime he goes to sleep? Who would say Daddy’s words (a beautiful mantra he’s said since Max was a baby) at bedtime and in the morning? Who would keep the pantry stocked with their favorite snacks? Who would know which blanket to cuddle Levi up with? Who would know which stuffy Max is referring to when he says, 'Snappy Wyatt?’

Battling the Monsters

These are the thoughts that go through my mind when that crippling fear creeps in. This is a monster unlike anything else I’ve ever faced. I can’t battle it head on, and know the outcome. I have to live with it, sit with it daily, and I have to quiet the sound of that monsters voice. I’ve shared these fears with friends, and the conversations that follow are like a healing balm for my soul. The beauty of motherhood is that we are all bound together by something bigger than ourselves. We understand these fears, we validate them, but we do not give in to them. We recognize their presence, and we help each other greet them with strength.

When I feel this monsters presence, I now know what to do. I pray. I call on my mom tribe (built up of the most incredible women in my family, and circle of friends). And, I practice gratitude. I offer these fears and worries to God, and I pray for peace and strength. I focus on the fact that this life is bigger than I am. While I may yearn for control (and try to exert it quite often), I am not in charge. This is very grounding, and it brings me back to the now.

When I’m away from our kids, I remind myself that moments of separation are a blessing - to me, and my family. You know the phrase, “absence makes the heart grow fonder?” There is so much truth behind those words. Whenever we spend time apart, that reunion is the sweetest feeling. The hugs are tighter, the tantrums bring less frustration, and the giggles are like honey to my ears.

God knows we all need these breaks. To recharge; to realign with our identity outside of ‘Mom.’ These moments away strengthen my belief in my purpose, and they remind me of what truly matters in life. This perspective is priceless.

I know this monster will never go away. It will jump out of closets, and hide under beds for the rest of my life. But I also know that this is part of motherhood. Tackling the monsters that creep up in every season. So, I will continue to face these fears with the help of my faith, my family, and my friendships.