Motherhood is HARD!

Motherhood is hard! Whether you have one child or ten, if it's what you always wanted or something you never planned for, if you love children or not so much, if you started young or waited awhile. Motherhood is HARD. So why are mothers born mbarded with sugary sweet platitudes or guilt inspiring judgment when they dare to admit it out loud? If we say we are "tired", as if that weak word could come even remotely close to expressing the utter depth of our exhaustion, we are often told to "cherish every moment", or "you'll miss it someday", or worse, "what did you expect?", and "this is what you said you wanted". And before you tell me this doesn't happen, these are direct quotes of things I have been told when expressing frustration, exhaustion, or discouragement over a particularly difficult moment (day, week, month) of parenting. Anyone who denies the near impossibility of motherhood is either lying, delusional, or clearly not a mother!
With the new mental health awareness campaigns running throughout the western world, how and why are we still dismissing a mother's right to authenticity by admitting that some days, maybe most days, she feels at best like she is barely getting by, and at worst that she is utterly failing.
To be perfectly honest, I am not going to cherish every moment. It is down right absurd to cherish the moments of hysterical tantrums, hitting, kicking, biting, screaming, "I hate you" moments that we all encounter somewhere along the path of parenting. I won't miss those moments. What I will miss are the moments when I could at least be proud of my response to these moments and I was able to reconnect and bond with my child. There are lots of things that coincide with these phases of tantrums and sleepless nights and utter battles that I will indeed miss. But to tell me, either by intention or ignorance, that to admit there are things about motherhood that are less than glamorous or enjoyable, is shameful or ungrateful, is destructive and insensitive. What I do with those feelings of frustration and disappointment is something else entirely, but to be denied the ability to even acknowledge the often uphill battle we wage every single day is to deminish our very existence. We cannot dwell in the negative all the time, but neither can we walk through life in denial. At the risk of being negative, we have become inauthentic. And that is more dangerous by far.

If I call myself a writer...

I have decided that it is time to get back to my writing. I have always felt in my heart that I am a writer, but to say it out loud to others has always terrified me. I think that's because if I call myself a writer, then I will be expected to write. It sounds obvious, but that scares me. I don't have a great track record for following through on things and this part of my identity is so personal and precious to me that I think the one I am most afraid of disappointing is myself. For the last 12+ years I have had the excuse of work, marriage and children to keep me from actively writing, but now it has been so long that I feel I either have to commit to my writing again, or else cease to identify as a writer. It has been a scary enough month as I made the commitment to myself in my heart to claim my identity, but I knew that wasn't enough. I don't know how many of you still follow this blog, after all it's been at least 5 years and only a handful of posts, but here is my public declaration: I am a writer. God has given me a gift with words and I am responsible to use it, and use it for his glory. The few people I have talked to about picking my writing back up have asked what I am writing... well, I am actively writing an anxiety workbook for youth, I am regularly free writing and writing poems, and I have at least 4 works of fiction in various stages in my mind and on paper/hard drive. So basically a lot of everything. If you are still following this blog, I hope to give you you more to read in the weeks and months to come. If I do seem to disappear again feel free to hold me accountable and ask for more.

Closed Doors

Last week was a roller coaster in our lives. I went from preparing for a long awaited pregnancy because i had recieved a clean bill of health to being told that the only expectation we can have of natural children is IVF. Our son was a miracle when we didn't know we needed one. I am trying hard to hold on to my faith that God can still do a miracle in our life and that he is ultimately in control. Dave and I are open to IVF and/or adoption, but it will be about 3-5 years before we can een tihnk about persuing these options. Financial stability is even more imoprtant and neccesary if we persue these options. Right now I find that I am grieveing all over again. Things are pretty mellow in our home right now, escept for the excitement and challenges that come with having a three year old. I was doing very well before we got this news, but between that and tweeking my meds I have been struggling with depression and anxiety again this week and my insomnia has been pretty bad. With not having to worry about getting pregnant I think I'll just tell the psychiatrist to put me back to the drugs and doses I was att since they were working so well. I know that at anytime all we can do is take life one day at a time, but right now it is moment by moment.

Small Beginnings

Hello All,
     Like many who start blogging, I don't really expect anyone to read this, but as I journal anyway, at least everything will be in one spot.
     I am married and have a 3 year old son. I grew up in ON and spent a year and a half in SK for college and now we live in BC. My dad was a truck driver and I have been to all but 3 of the American states and have been to all but the eastern provinces and the territories. I love to travel and have been camping and hiking for literally longer than I can remember. I was born in the city, but spent most of my life on a little hobby farm in rural ON. I am a country girl at heart; strong, independent, loyal, a little rough around the edges. My heritage is Mennonite and Irish. I like to say I wasn't Irish enough for one Grampa or Mennonite enough for the other, but I was still loved by both.
     Ultimately, I have no idea what this will turn into, but I chose the name Heart Strings for my blog because my writing is where I pour out my thoughts and wrestle with things that are really important... things close to my heart. Sometimes it's about how I parent, sometimes it's about my marriage and other family relationships, and sometimes it's about things God is teaching me.
     Lately life has been less than boring. Of course with a three year old son that goes with out saying. But our excitement, as it were, has involved much more than our toddler's antics. My husband is trying to finish up his Master's and we have been trying to get pregnant with our second child. I have been dealing with some major health issues that have me in pain almost daily, to the point I needed morphine. Things with both of our parents are always complicated and not just when dealing with the typical in-law issues, though there are enough of those too. To say that money is tight would be an understatement and both my husband and I deal with depression. So looking at all this and looking at how I dealt with similar circumstances, I should be a wreck right now. So what's different now?
     Over the past 7 years I have been part of a church where I am known. I left my family back east and things with my in-laws are dicey at best, but here I have found a family that knows, loves and supports me. Since this fall specifically I have gotten re-involved in our women's Bible study. In the fall we did a study on the fruit of the Spirit and now we are in the middle of a study on Ephesians. Peaceful is not a word that most people would choose to describe me; not my circumstances or my approach or perspective to life. But both these studies have focused on God's peace and how he is the source and giver of it. I go for surgery in a week and I have no concrete answers as to the out come, but I, who struggle daily with depression and anxiety, am at peace. God's peace is said to be the peace that passes all understanding. I have finally known this peace and it is only one of the many gifts God has given me and will continue to give me in the future. I can't say that I have learned to live everyday in this peace, but i do thank God for small beginnings.