It’s the anniversary of the day I had my son 5 years ago.
This post is about me. He will get his own 💕
The labor 5 years ago was the easy part 🤣
I am taking a minute for myself to honor my motherhood being 5 years and 9 months old.
Nothing has been so transformative. Nothing has been so intense. Nothing has been so joyous.
It all sounds like a cliche. Because there are actually no words. The daily miracles of raising children get lost in the meal preps and the meltdowns and the bedtime routines gone on too long. (Anyone else’s child always have 39 extra things to do before he’ll sleep? No? Just us? 🤦🏻♀️)
We need to do better at honoring the miracles amidst the grind. But it’s hard. There’s no pause button and these little people need so much (and my little person is undoubtedly Extra). And boundaries for the basics are sometimes all we can muster.
I rarely see a mother honoring herself and celebrating this entity of its own: Her Motherhood. It’s not the child. It’s not the woman (she was there before and is still there somewhere), but the identity of motherhood. It is more than a profession, it is inescapable, it is everpresent and we want it to both go away and never leave. We have taken on another layer of ourselves that also entangles into every other layer of ourselves. There is nothing comparable.
So, my Motherhood is 5 years and 9 months old. I have to admit I haven’t been a very good friend to my mother-self. I want to apologize to her. She’s still pretty new at this and it’s been a hard run for her trying to figure out what is normal (which really doesn’t freaking matter anyway) and after all, what is OUR normal. She’s grown from insecurities and comparison. She’s found her path and is working on a stride, but that doesn’t make it easy or straight or tireless. She’s proud of how she’s tuned into her inner voice and the wisdom of generations of doing this mothering thing. She’s afraid and unafraid. She’s exhausted and energized. She’s defeated and hopeful. The dichotomies of motherhood are endless.
This mama is a beautiful masterpiece of probably 5000+ breastfeeding hours and 700+ gallons of breastmilk (we’re done in case you’re rolling your eyes — which you shouldn’t be — but it’s still worth commemorating because that’s insane.) 1700 baths, at least 1500 meals, not even talking about snacks 🙄, 5700 outfit changes (the majority of which is police attire 👮🏼), probably 1200 meltdowns & kissed boo-boos.
If you can sort of count all of that stuff imagine allll of the other things that you just can’t even begin to quantify. It’s mind blowing. Like how many times have I given comfort just by being present? How many times have I sat on the floor to play? How many times have I heard the name Mama? How many times have I been awakened in the night? 🤯.
I’m also taking credit for my son’s vast vocabulary and all of the explaining I have to do in extreme detail about every thing that he observes and asks about. 🤣
So, mama-self, I salute you. I applaud you. I honor you. I support you. I see you. Keep at it, lady, you’re amazing 💖
I’m a farm girl.
I haven’t always been comfortable saying that.
I grew up feeding calves, throwing bales of hay from a wagon, tromping through the woods, making forts on the barn roof, biking to friends houses miles away by myself unannounced.
I wasn’t always grateful for the freedom, fresh air, and nature-oriented life that I had back then (one that I dream of for my son now). All I felt was how different I was from the cool town-kids whose chores were taking garbage to the curb or tending to their pool. I didn’t really feel like the farm life was valued and therefore I wasn’t valuing it as a part of my identity.
During college, in the city, with kids who came from the city I realized that where they were growing up they couldn’t see the stars or stay out late or disappear for hours like I could. I still felt different, although I saw a few upsides to my origins, but I hadn’t really reconciled it as something to be proud of. I was also really called towards business and technology and I had summized that there were no jobs for me in the country anyway so I kept shoving that part of me to the side to do city things where I thought my potential was.
Despite the subconscious dissonance I felt within I still had closet dreams of figuring out a fusion of the farm and the city. I didn’t want to be a dairy farmer. All love and respect to them because its a hard life and one I was not called to. I thought about bed and breakfast, Strawberry farm, pumpkin farm, stuff like that.
Meanwhile I was getting myself some good corporate experience. I love building websites and email campaigns and bringing authentic messages to people based on their needs. I love leading teams and encouraging people to use their strengths. Love that stuff and spent time volunteering for clubs doing it all too because it is my passion and I can’t get enough. I was so lucky to be exposed to companies with resources and training and abundance during such an important early chapter in my career.
Recently there was a chapter where I needed to understand that my health, my contributions, and **I** was valuable. I am not going to go through the whole story as there is plenty of coverage of that elsewhere in my blog but what is coming into focus for me about that chapter is that in denying pieces of myself such as where I came from, my inner voice, and my boundaries I had allowed it to eat away at me inside. Feelings buried alive never die.
But now!! In the midst of a chapter of healing I have unexpectedly found myself getting to do all of my favorite geeky passions working with a world-class company for which FARMS couldn’t be more important. First of all, they actually own their own farms. (The only EO company that does.) And even more importantly—THEY VALUE THEIR FARMERS.
You guys. I could literally cry thinking about this. Even with this thing that I had been diminishing, God has a plan and every experience has a place in it. I have literally been led here without knowing the way. All the things have been building towards this. After all this, I can embrace that piece of me that I had struggled to integrate because I’ve been led to a safe place where it is valued and respected. Where all my talents can be used. It is well with my soul.
Sometimes we just need that outside validation, right? I mean I am human after all.
We need to own ourselves as individuals, every piece of it. That is how we become whole.
But all of these little coincidences aren’t coincidences at all. It is all as it should be. I am embracing every piece of my life and I can’t help but look for which cool puzzle pieces will come together in the future that make sense of other things in my life!
What’s your identity? Are you fully embracing it? How have pieces of you been realized in unexpected ways?
and because God is so cool like this— today’s devotion talks about living into our identity. I just love these little winks from God. I had been writing this post for a few days and had finished it last night with plans to post it this morning. And waiting for me first thing was this awesome devotion. After today the scripture will disappear from the post but it is talking about Acts 5:27-33 where Peter and the Apostles are being harassed by the Sanhedrin for continuing to teach in Jesus name. The writer of the devotion gives a summary :). GO READ IT and go live your identity proudly and without fear! 💓🙌🌟
I'm Lisa Yau, thanks for stopping by!