A Grateful Life Lived

Plunging into motherhood has been a tremendous gift—one that offers more joy than I previously thought was possible! When friends ask how I’m doing, I can honestly say that I adore it. In fact, I’d rate motherhood a solid 20/10 (extra points for baby yawns and my daughter’s first smile).

At the same time, becoming a parent is a life-changing transformation, and change–even good change–isn’t easily categorized.

This season is incredibly wonderful. It’s also uniquely challenging. aAs I reflect on the ways God has blessed me in these early weeks of being a parent, I am met with a frightening fog. I feel as if I’ve been thrown into a chasm between who I was (pre-motherhood) and this new identity. I long to have one “normal” day again.

Yes, I miss life before motherhood. I miss my solar-charged runs on mountain ridges; the hours of joyful exclamation and silence. I miss collaborating with coworkers and going to bed early and spending all day with my dog “just because.” I miss the thrill of accomplishment I’d get after a sunrise workout or a long day at work. Those dopamine hits sustained my achievement-oriented drive, and while I was quick to admit that the lifestyle was very conducive to selfishness, I didn’t necessarily want to say goodbye to it.

Acknowledging the both/and of Motherhood

But here I am. I’m laying next to my daughter for “tummy time.” My running shoes sit dormant by the garage and my flowers are fending for themselves. In lieu of scheduling life around a work schedule or social commitments, I am at the mercy of my child’s wake windows. 

I am aware of the value of rest during this season. Still, I cringe whenever Google Photos reminds me via notification what I was doing “on this day” one, two, or three years ago.

I ache for the version of me with sore muscles and a busy schedule and a camera roll of expeditions. I miss her. I may not be training, but my body aches—recovering from labor is no joke. The soreness is a constant reminder: Delivering a human has forever tethered me to the vulnerability of my own humanity. I am stretched and torn. 

That feels hard to acknowledge… as if it is an admission of regret or a lack of gratitude. But it’s not; nor is it an attempt to gloss over the unhealthy and hard aspects of my adventure-oriented life before motherhood. I yearn for the fun parts of that life, but not a regression in healing to the anxious, obsessive, and regimented life behind-the-scenes. The woman who writes these words more fully embodies who God made me to be. I love that, plus: I love my child. AND, I’m still figuring motherhood out while grieving the loss of my former self. Both these things can be true.

“Delivering a human has forever tethered me to the vulnerability of my own humanity. I am stretched and torn.”

I am not searching for a quick solution (there isn’t one) or a magic rewind (I don’t want one). Rather, writing this piece is a way for me to process and proclaim God’s goodness during life’s transitions—hopefully in a way that encourages you, as well.

Relying on More Than a Rhythm

People say that as soon as you get into a rhythm in early parenthood, your child grows and the rhythm is disrupted. I think that’s how life is in general, though. Everything is constantly in flux, and that prevents us from (1) self-reliance and (2) digging into one facet of our identity. 

Here’s to nuance and growth–for whatever season you are in. No matter where we are, gratitude can be a constant if we let it, so that is my goal right now: Savoring my daughter and trusting that I will get to reincorporate those other passions in due time.

Love,

Han