I’ve been arm-wrestling that part of my brain again this week- The one that seems to intermittently take over and crowd out all the good that I know is in there.
This post is honest and I don’t apologize for it, although I do wish that I could be the kind of person who didn’t feel the need for posts like this… the kind of person who didn’t know thoughts like mine on a regular, cyclical basis. If I could stop these feelings I would, but they are ceaseless (like waves), and sharing parts of them with you is only in the hope that my words won’t fall on unemphatic ears. That some of my struggle will hit someone out there like a ton of bricks because they know what it’s like and they suddenly don’t feel so lost anymore.
I’d like to say that I know I’m a good mother. I can say with all honesty that I know I look like a good mother, but anything beyond that catches on my lips. No, it doesn’t even get as far as my lips… it stops long before my throat, even. My very heart questions it.
I feel this way because I honestly don’t know if I’m alone in feeling this way. I feel like I’m the only one who has these thoughts of doubt and rage and fear. I’m becoming more sure that I’m alone in teetering on the brink, and everyone else is a good enough mother to never even see the edge.
I love my son. He is wonderful and none of this has to do with him. But there are days when I honestly question my decision to become a mother. Days when I think about how it was before he was born and I pine for them. I don’t mean this flippantly. These feelings are gut-wrenching and they occur too often.
I want to be the kind of mom that doesn’t wish for the old so much. I want to be the kind of mom that doesn’t feel the anger well up so quickly that she’s jerking her son’s arm before she even knows what’s happened. I want to be the kind of mom that never sees that look in her child’s eyes- the one that instantly makes me sob with shame and fear.
I am tired most of the day and I feel bored with the mall and the barnes & noble and the raging allergies I deal with every time I try to take Ezra outside. I feel like a failure on so many levels. I mean, most moms I know are ready and excited to have another baby by this point… I feel like something is wrong with me because the thought of another baby (most days) is too overwhelming to even day-dream about. It fills me with fear and anxiety.
The thing that would always help me through this re-occurring fog in the past was remembering back to before I was pregnant- back when I felt that God spoke clearly to me and asked me to have this child for Him. I was excited about what God was asking me to do, even though I’d never really wanted to be a mom up until that point. I said ‘yes’ out of obedience (and the joy of being asked), and I trusted that God would give me everything I needed to raise this child in the way He would want me to.
So what do you do when you begin to question the Voice that you heard?
“What if I heard wrong?”
I know that God will still provide for me, but the doubts! They suffocate!
Ezra is so amazing. I know that this can’t be WRONG. I know that he is RIGHT. But what if I never am the mother that he deserves?
What if he needs more? More than I can ever give?
These questions are the screaming in my gut.