Category: Motherhood

More on motherhood & the battle with envy

~ K ~ Leave a comment

What does it look like for God to be working in my life? What do I expect?

In August 2008, God flicked some kind of switch inside of me that made me desire to have children. I was absolutely distraught upon the realization of this. I’d never desired children of my own before then. In fact, my current husband and I nearly broke up over the issue when we were dating because I was so adamant about not wanting to give bear children.

But a lot can change in a few years.

That August, I cried my little heart out because I never, ever wanted to have kids of my own. I didn’t want to be pregnant and I didn’t want to go through labor. (I still don’t but it’s kind of necessary to have a baby biologically.) I was very angry with God. And in many ways, I still struggle with this because I simply didn’t think it was fair for Him to change my heart to something I never wanted. (Nevermind the fact that He controls the universe and other important miscellany.)

Before that fateful August, I could babysit kids or serve in the church nursery and think to myself, “Ah, this is the best form of birth control.” Now, my heart aches because every time I hold a child, I know I’ll have to give it back because it’s not my own. And it’s frustrating to feel this way when I know the happiness of not feeling that way.

I don’t like talking about my desire for children because I’m still not completely comfortable with it. But then again, I’m not completely comfortable with the fact that I’m a woman with an emotional pendulum now.

I need to accept that as a result of getting older, some things will change. My moods are like roller coasters and I cry more often. And boy, do I hate crying. In fact, I loathe it. I loathe it when women cry at the drop of a hat. And to become one of those women disturbs me.

So now I cry at least once a month when I am faced with the fact that it is yet another month that I am not with child. The crazy thing is, I don’t think I want a child that badly. But I do find myself a bit more sympathetic to women of the Bible like Sarah, Hannah, and Rachel who struggled with barrenness—especially since their worth was essentially based off of whether they could bear children and how many of them they had bore (namely sons).

And with a few pregnant friends, I find myself battling with envy. I want to be totally happy for them. What bothers me most is that two years ago, I was able to be genuinely happy. But now, I think to myself, “Why not me? What’s wrong with me? Am I meant to have a child? My cycle works just fine so why is it taking me so long?” I wouldn’t want to take away from the happiness of any of my friends but at the same time, I find that my envy prevents me from being happy for them as I’d normally be.

I tried to explain my puzzlement over my enviousness to my husband. I said, “I don’t think I’ve really struggled with this until I desired a kid of my own.” He countered, “Oh yes, you do.” He began listing a few moments in my life where envy reared its ugly head and I immediately found myself forced to agree with him.

“Remember how you felt when you saw what your college classmates were doing and where they worked?”

Oh yeah. They worked at the New York Times, the NY Daily News, the NY Post, Newsday. Ah yes, and Newsday, a place I could have worked at too. (Now, I’m glad I effectively slammed the door shut on the opportunity. It’s a sinking ship.)

I spoke to a friend recently telling her of my struggle with envy. She wisely encouraged me to repent of my sin.

My youth & the prospect of motherhood

~ K ~ 7 Comments

An issue I struggle with is not coming to terms with my age. I recently turned 28 but am often told I look like I’m barely 21. (This agelessness runs in my family.) Since I don’t look 28 and don’t “feel” 28, I don’t consider myself to be 28. I still view my peers to be older than me. (In many instances, they are but not by much.)

So when I see so many of my friends getting pregnant and having children, I am baffled as to why there is this baby boom I’m stuck in the middle of. I’ve always looked at other pregnant women and thought, “I’m too young for that.” I tell my husband that I hate being part of trends so I’ll probably wait until all my friends are done having kids. Then he drops the bomb on me: if I wait, I’ll be 40 before I can have kids.

My husband proceeded to tell me in no uncertain terms that the reason many of my friends are pregnant is because we’re all at that age. While I’ve accepted that my friends are old enough to have steady jobs, get married, and have kids, I never lumped myself in that group. I’ve always thought “I’m too young to have kids” when I’ve grown into an age when it is acceptable for me to do so.

Having been brought up in the New York City (NYC) metro area, I grew up with the mindset that I’d graduate from college, become a career woman, get married between the ages of 25-30, and maybe (maybe) have or adopt children in my 30’s—if ever. In NYC, children are not something you seriously consider before the age of 30.

My mindset has been perpetually stuck at 21 despite the fact that I’ve graduated college. Factually, I know I’m an adult, I can drink alcohol legally, hold down a job responsibly, and get married. Factually, I understand this like 2 + 2 = 4. And for a long time, I was always the youngest in the family, looking up to older people so I still possess that “I’m a baby” mentality. And babies shouldn’t be having babies, right?

But I’m not a baby anymore. Someone needs to hammer into my head that I’m almost 30 and married. Someone needs to shake me and tell me I’m a responsible adult now and it’s okay for me to have children before the age of 33. Someone needs to tell me that I’m getting old and by the time I start to “feel” 30, it’ll be too late for me to have kids.

Readers already over 30 years of age will probably scoff and think, “Oh, whatever. You’re still young.” I’m not arguing the fact that I’m still young. What I am saying is that I’m not as young as I think. And it’s a problem I’m not sure how to rectify.

Still searching for an identity… part 1

~ K ~ 6 Comments

Topics running through my mind:

1. Motherhood
2. Writing
3. Blogging
4. Career
5. Job with contract company
6. Faith/religion/God
7. Lack of consistency/discipline
8. My personality–always desiring to be someone I’m not

My mind is all over the place so let’s cover all of these topics–though not necessarily in the order listed and definitely not all in this post. I ended up handwriting this post first (over the course of 2 hours) which amounted to about 22 pages on 7″ x 10.5″ paper. So this will end up being a series posted during the next couple of days.

Desiring to be someone who I’m not.

So I follow all these pastors, read their works, and am a HUGE fan, ie, Driscoll, Piper, and Packer. And sometimes I find myself wishing I could be a pastor. But it’s not a dream I can entertain myself with since I’m a woman and believe the Bible says only men are called to be pastors. (Yes, I know female pastors exist but I don’t agree with them.)

I find myself thinking, “Lord, why didn’t you make me a guy?” But then I realize guys don’t have it easy. My husband has to answer to God for the spiritual direction of our family. No, thank you. It’s hard enough being responsible for myself!

I used to look at other women and wish I could be them–wish I could have their lives or attractive personalities. For example, my older cousin whom I love to pieces. I used to look up to her. In a lot of ways, I still do. She’s strong, she’s a leader, she’s independent, and she’s self-sufficient. But she’s not married and doesn’t have any good prospects in the wings (that I know of). Do I really want to trade my husband just so I can have all those awesome qualities I am so envious of?

Funny like one of my friends. I wish I was like that. I wish I was sweet and likable like my former co-worker. I wish I didn’t care what anyone thinks of me like my hairdresser. Who looks at me and gets envious? But I guess we can all find something to envy about each other, right?

Materialism.

I’m not incredibly materialistic but hoo boy am I definitely tied to the things of this world. Money–something I use, not necessarily for material possessions (although my current obsession is IKEA), but to make myself feel worth something.

Yes, I tie my worth to whether I make money. Problem is, I don’t know how to “untie” it.

When a month or two go by and I haven’t heard from the company I contract for regularly, I self-deprecate and get negative:

“What if they never call me again?”

“What if my work from last time was sloppy and they just don’t want me back?”

“I’m not earning any money so I’m worthless and useless and my life and existence is pointless.”

But when I work, I suddenly have worth again. I feel I can legitimately complain about how the government uses taxpayer money because 30 percent of what I make goes to state and federal taxes each quarter. (That’s what happens when you’re self-employed in the U.S.!)

But what will happen when my full-time job becomes mother? How will I assess my worth then? Will I be worthless as a citizen of the U.S. with a purposeful existence as a mother? Will I be more useful than I’ve ever been?

My husband argues that his money is my money. I don’t see it that way. I have access to his earnings and he can have access to mine (I make significantly less than he does so he rarely has any need to) but I treat our earnings separately. I tithe off of whatever I make and don’t ever touch his. I don’t feel right taking his money–that he worked 40+ hours during the week to earn–and acting like it’s mine. I didn’t earn it. I never showed up to code a software program; he did. It’s not mine. And buying a gift with his money just seems so lame; I’d rather buy nothing at all. I can inherit it if he dies–just like I inherit my mother’s house–but it’s not mine until then. I’ll use it with his permission but I’ll always feel indebted to him. (Out-of-context verse time!) The borrower is slave to the lender.

Motherhood.

I don’t like to publicly discuss this in detail since I never wanted kids before last year and still really wrestle with the prospect of being a responsible, mature mom. As a result, I’ll be brief: I’m impatient, I’m disappointed every time I find out I’m not expecting, and I wonder if motherhood is what God has for me.