My Journey to Motherhood – Part 3; In an Instant

I’ve heard stories about it happening this way – being set free in an instant.

I suppose I’ve even encountered small doses of it here and there.

Take, for example, the decades long people-pleasing I revered with this one particular individual…I wanted her acceptance. Her words, steeped with disapproval, shoveled shame so thick on my soul that it nearly crushed me at times.

Then, one day…as I continued to grow and develop over the years…learning what MY values are and what it means to live those out…she had said some very hurtful things through written message and I wanted to have a candid conversation to address them (which I had never done before, confront her on her words).

Briiiiing, briiiing…I spoke, I shared my truth, then she spoke, but it was as if she did not hear a word I had said. I tried again. She bypassed and circumvented again. Change of topic. No responsibility for things said.

It was in that moment that I realized: this is a pattern. This relationship has very little meaningful fruit. This relationship is more of a “should” in many ways. It’s not that I want or need the relationship to end completely, but I will no longer be bound mentally to jumping through her hoops.

I don’t owe her anything.

Freedom.

In an instant.

(Or was it decades in the making?)

So, yes, there have been occasional times like that. Typically though? I seem to play the long-game when it comes to finding freedom.

I wrestle. (A shark and an alligator, in the mud, at the same time, it often feels.)

I doubt.

I take one step forward, then two steps back.

I sabotage.

I delay.

I allow fear to make predictions about the future.

Stuck.

Perhaps you can relate?

When it comes to the journey to motherhood…

AY-YI-YI-YO-YO!

It could rival Cedar Point as being America’s largest, longest, most upside-down flips and ninety-degree turns, biggest drop roller coaster.

Buck-le up, buttercup.

I had been considering going back to therapy to talk about my fears in becoming a parent – including the avoidance of even thinking about it. You can read more about that here. It was in this exact season that I heard from God, plain and clear. He graciously showed me that I was allowing my fears to rule the roost versus trusting Him. I was playing God by attempting to control and micromanage. He asked me to trust Him and let go. You can read more about that here.

I let go.

I did.

It wasn’t easy.

It was scary.

I did it afraid.

Trusting.

Then, I found myself pregnant at the absolute first chance.

I freaked.

I flipped.

But I also thought, “Ok, God. I guess it’s our time. You knew the perfect timing for us. This is not by accident.”

Those thoughts only went so far, only lasted so long.

The next many weeks would be filled with an ebb and flow of trying not to think about it and pure terror. Constant nausea, wacky food aversions, and dizziness took much of my attention. The other side of the coin was shame for not feeling pure excitement for this “miracle” everyone around me was so excited about.

Thankfully, though shame tried to stake ground in my heart, I knew I didn’t have to accept it. Every time I cried out to God, especially on those mornings where I told Him He picked the wrong girl for the job…

Never did I feel anything but held in return.

Truthfully, I was proud of myself for allowing the feelings to surface. My modus operandi when it comes to emotions has, more times than not, included shoving them down, ignoring altogether, or eating my way through them (or not eating at all as a means of control). This journey? These cries out to God? The sobbing on the stairs, on the foam roller, and lamenting the loss of the way I used to feel (more in control than this)?

I was actually being real with myself.

Real with God.

Not using food to escape.

Since I wasn’t shaming me, and God wasn’t shaming me, I don’t know if I was inwardly looking for someone else to do so or what, but anytime I had those hard, hard days of doubting, I would tell Bryan. That’s not uncommon; I tell him everything. In this case though, it almost felt like I was tattling on myself with expectation of getting bruised in return. One time, I even said,

“I’m sorry I’m the wife you have going through this with you. I’m sorry I’m not just excited with you.”

I was starting to feel bad that my fears weren’t just going away. His reply? “Tam, you have nothing to apologize for. Your feelings are your feelings, but I see the truth through it all. Once that baby is placed on your chest, I have no doubt in my mind you will fall deeply in love. No doubt. And whatever hiccups and challenges come, we will face them, just like we always have. We aren’t doing this alone either.”

No shame.

No blame.

Only love.

Last week Friday, the morning included one of these break-down sob sessions. Then came Sunday…

The day started like any other day; I was digging into God’s Word. Following the study outline provided by a class I was currently takiing, that meant opening to Judges, Chapter 6.

Gideon.

I’ve read it before. More than once. But this day? During this exact season of life? The Holy Spirit met me here, right where He knew I needed leading, love, and assurance.

The area where Gideon lived had been under attack. At the start of the scene, Gideon was hiding in a wine press threshing wheat.

HIDING.

God came to Him and called out, “O mighty man of valor, go and lead your people to victory.”

Mighty man of valor?

What lens are you looking through?

Gideon responded by telling the Lord all of the reasons he was NOT the man for the job.

God’s reply?

“I will be with you.”

Shot to the heart – I am Gideon in this story. I am hiding. I am the one telling God, “I am not the girl for the job.”

He is the one saying in response, “I will be with you.”

Gideon did NOT merely go, immediately, as we see so many others do in the gospels when Jesus calls them to follow Him. Nope. Gideon wanted assurance. He asked God to prove it was really Him, and really His will by making a few things happen in the physical where Gideon could see.

He wanted to know beyond the shadow of a doubt.

God met Him there. He willingly showed Gideon it was He, in the ways Gideon needed to see.

As if that weren’t enough for this story to gut me (in the best of ways)…Gideon calls the troops together…there were so many men ready and willing to fight, God said, “Send some of those people home. There are too many. This goes on a few times until what could have been an army of 22,000 is whittled down to 300.

Why? Why would God do that? Did He want them all to die? Quite the contrary. He intended for them to live, but He didn’t want any of them to think they did it on their own. He wanted them to know they couldn’t have done it without His help, His protection, and His provision.

And they won!

Not by their own might, but by trusting God.

His ways are so not like our ways.

I can scarcely see an army sending troops home to intentionally shrink themselves smaller than their opponent.

Yet God…

For me, this part of the story is where God said to my heart,

“I don’t need you to be a “perfect” mom. I need you to trust in Me. Together, we will parent your kiddo. Apart from me, it won’t work well. In Me, with Me, through Me…that’s the way it will be. A daily walk. Together.”

There it was…FREEDOM…in an instant.

The weight was lifted.

Dark clouds parted.

I have literally been dancing in the sun since that day; swirling and twirling and swishing my party dress left and right.

He is with me.

He will never leave me.

I don’t have to be – won’t ever be – perfect on my own, but that’s not the goal.

He did pick me.

Hiding me.

I am the girl for the job.

As of today, I am eighteen weeks pregnant and I am no longer hanging out in terror.

I’ve traded in terror for trust and it fits me oh-so-much better.

💚 Tammy