New Life

It really is true that two births happen in a delivery room - the birth of a baby and the birth of a mother. The past four months have shown me that becoming a parent is like a new birth in so many ways. Every decision I make during the day and for the long term is precisely focused on what my son needs and what my husband and I will need to parent him well.

My first thought when I wake is that my baby needs me. My last thought before I close my eyes is that I need to be the mom he needs. Even now, knowing he is only an infant, I painstakingly replay the moments of my day when I was too impatient or too distracted and wonder how it affected him. I go over changes I need to make to raise him the way I want to - how I need to be healthier, how I need to be more disciplined, how I need to be more godly, how I need to be more focused and more fun. And, most of all, I spend the moments at night that I used to spend longing for a child in thanking God for this incredible gift.

Because yes, new motherhood is heavy but I don't think it's a burden. It weighs my heart with worry but only because it first overflows my heart with love. My mind thinks differently now but I have no aching to go back to my old thinking. Not for one moment.

When I became a mom for the first time four months ago, I began a new life. Truly new, with all the anxiety and apprehension and anticipation and adventure that newness brings. It's hard now to even remember life before but that is probably because I would rather not. The present is too precious.

I keep thinking about what Jesus said, "If you try to save your life, you will lose it. But if you give it up for me, you will surely find it." I know He is referencing something else here, but I think that verse reflects a huge reality in my life. The more I try to hang on to what I think will make me valuable - work performance, attractiveness, a perfectly decorated and clean home, participation in a million activities and ministries, etc. - the more it slips through my hands. But the more I give up my "plan A" plans and embrace a life I once thought I would despise, the more I am connecting with my real self. The self with a super loud laugh, a sagging ponytail, a drool-stained Star Wars T-shirt, and a nerdy obsession with rhymes and awkward dance moves.

Spending my days and weeks with this tiny human who depends on me and loves me just because I'm his mama has given me a new perspective on freedom.

To me, freedom isn't the chance to do what I want - it's the chance to be who I am. Freedom doesn't have to mean the celebration of independence - it can mean the celebration of interdependence.

In a world where men and women are both pressured to climb the ladder and prove our worth - to make a name for ourselves with education and enterpreneurship - it is easy to forget that many of the people who have shaped our lives and our character the most never climbed, never proved, and never received great recognition for their achievements. While we should all encourage each other to give our best to everything we do, I am learning to remember that the giving of our best doesn't always look the way we think it will.

Tonight as I listen to the rhythmic hum of the dishwasher and the dryer, and as I look at my son sleeping peacefully in his crib, I smile at this new life God has given me. Not just new because of my son's existence. Not just new because I am not working a full-time job anymore. New because I feel a deep sense of belonging here - here in this scarred body, here in this little family, here in this home of clutter and chaos, and here in this sacred moment at the intersection of the journey behind me and the journey ahead of me.

"I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free...His eye is on the sparrow and I know he watches me."