Expectations

Girls spend most of their childhoods fantasizing about their adult lives. We imagine ourselves meeting "Mr. Right"-- a handsome "prince" who will slay life's dragons for us. Of course, we then spend countless hours planning our wedding. We pick the colors, flowers, songs, and places all at least a decade before we need to. And then we imagine our family. We envision our children and daydream about how wonderful it must be to be pregnant, how magical giving birth must be and how much fun it will be to raise a child.

 

 

In writing this installment of "Growings", I am wrestling with the many expectations I have had about my life up until this point and the stark comparison between these fantasies and reality. In this moment, my mind trails off in to countless directions that this blog could take. I could write about how my wedding day, though beautiful and certainly one of the happiest days of my life, was just one day in the midst of thousands and not the quintessential moment of my life I envisioned it to be. I could bemoan all of the challenges of pregnancy-- the heartburn, the sleeplessness, the total strangers feeling they now have a right to touch my body. I could talk about how the details of my son's birth came from my nightmares rather than my fantasies. All of these are good for me to process and, I'm sure, reflect similar experiences of other women. However, today I am feeling that my own negativity needs to be challenged.

 

Now, I am no fool. I, as other moms I know, detailed a list of ugly expectations of motherhood prior to my son being born. I envisioned myself being home alone while my child screamed mercilessly for endless hours. I was prepared for the stinky diapers, the sleepless nights, the fountain of drool and the drain on my pocketbook. A friend of mine once said, "Parenthood shows you how selfish you really are" and I fully expected this to be proven correct in myself. Still, despite all my planning, fantasizing and fearing, there were several things I was not prepared for-- ways in which parenthood blew my expectations out of the water.

 

 

Newborns are supposed to wreak havoc on your marriage. And it does-- but not just in the ways you expect. My son's arrival gave me an opportunity to fall in love with my husband all over again. You see, I have been introduced to a man I have never met before: Matt-the-dad. In fact, I am pretty sure this part of my husband is a part he didn't know existed either. It is an amazing thing to see such a tiny being bring such a strong man to his knees. It warms my heart to see the ways in which my husband interacts with my son-- the ways in which he tries to connect with this tiny human with his own unique flair. I am humbled to learn of new ways my husband finds to serve me since our son was born-- ways to assure me that he sees my new "job" as as much "work" as his job and the means by which he goes out of his way to make sure my needs are met. I anticipated the ways in which parenthood would challenge my marriage but I could not have imagined the ways in which it makes it better.

 

Babies are time guzzlers. It is amazing just how much time it takes to keep something so small fed, changed, and reasonably happy. Now that I'm home full-time, people ask me, "What do you do all day long?" Clearly they have forgotten or have never experienced the realities of caring for an infant! Still, sacrificing my time for my son is not without its unexpected rewards. My husband and I have essentially lost our weekly date-nights, an engagement we have faithfully kept since week one of our marriage. Parenthood also took away my liberty, my freedom to come and go as I please. Leaving the house is now a monumental task and doing so in the snow of winter does not make it any easier. My hobby-time has all but disappeared and I frequently struggle to juggle my son’s needs with those of the household. I am expected to take care of a baby and keep a house spotless? Hah! I laugh at the absurdity! No doubt parenthood has lived up to my expectations in just how much a child would re-arrange my schedule. So, where are the rewards I spoke of, you ask? I miss my date-nights terribly; however, now, each small moment with my husband is precious. I could never have anticipated how special and intimate-- how life-breathing just having breakfast with my husband could be! Parenthood has made me appreciate the quick moments, the small moments, the every-day moments of my marriage. I suck in each second because I know any second it could be gone! Parenthood has made me appreciate the joy of leaving the house with nothing but my purse. On the rare occasions I get to leave the house by myself, I am nearly giddy with enjoyment! Grocery shopping has never been so refreshing! And, parenthood has built in a sense of self-satisfaction in to the mundane. It is a monumental feat to be able to have the baby fed, happy, clothed, and have dinner on the table when my husband gets home! Parenthood may make my schedule chaos but when those free moments do come around to be with my husband, to do a hobby, to accomplish a task, or just stare at the ceiling, they are more enjoyable, more satisfying, and more personally gratifying than ever before!

 

Finally, I expected that being a mom would be fulfilling and rewarding, and it is. Isn’t that why we become moms to begin with? Still, being a mom has done something to me that I did not anticipate. It has humbled me. Like I said in my last post, I am used to being able to come to some sense of mastery over most new things. Obviously, parenthood is a lot of new things and, so far, I have found none of them that I could master. Still, instead of being struck with a sense of failure (though, I confess, that temptation is there), I am hit with the reality of how complex a creature, how unspeakably unique, how altogether unfathomable this little boy is that God has entrusted to me. How arrogant is it of me to expect that I, a mere human, could ever suppose I could lead my little boy down some “perfect path” to health and happiness? What would have lead me to believe that through enough reading, planning, and overall effort on my part I could somehow "make" some "perfect" child. Now, admittedly I have always known that I am not "making" anything, but still, the idea is there. Somehow I got the idea that being mom means being all-knowing, all-doing, and all-fixing. Reading over the description of this expectation of what it means to be a mom, it seems to me that somehow I got the idea that being a mom is being next to God in a child’s life. I may not yet have a clear description of what being mom is but I am sure "God-like" is not it!

 

This week God is growing in me a realization that His expectation of me as a mom is not anything like the expectations I have for myself. It's not to be all-knowing, all-doing, or all-fixing. That is His job. Only He knows the perfect path for my son. I was never expected to have any idea. Being perfectly equipped to as a mom does not mean being perfect. I am certain that God’s expectation of me all along, the even more humbling part of this lesson, is to simply be a caretaker of this baby boy—one of His creatures that never was and never will be again. This perfect little boy who grew from next-to-nothing was given to me to watch over—no“make”. I’m not perfect. God knew it. God expected it. But he gave me this job anyway.

 

I am grateful for the ways in which parenthood has not always lived up to my expectations, grateful for the understanding that God does not share my expectations of myself as a mom and immensely grateful that he entrusted me with this astounding task anyway.