August 3, 2012 by Heather
Yesterday was a tough one. It was ugly and awful and had me thinking terrible things like, Why oh why did God see fit to give me a baby? And, I just want to run away… I cannot do this… I cannot be a mom, I just don’t want to do it anymore.
I told you, it was ugly.
Parker cried all. day. long. When he wasn’t crying, he was eating. By 2pm I was at my wit’s end, and then he decided not to take his afternoon nap and I just about lost it. Well, I guess sobbing in the living room floor while your screaming baby is in another room with a wet diaper can technically be called losing it.
It was the longest, most frustrating day I’d had in a while. I am reading this book called “Big Girls Don’t Whine,” and I have been trying to implement a lot of it in my day-to-day life. I tend to have trouble controlling my attitude and being able to change it from bad to good. As in, I can’t do it. I also tend to dwell on the bad parts of a day, rather than the hundreds of good parts, thus making it a “bad day,” when it was so totally a good day. I’ve been called a pessimist. Can you believe that? The nerve.
Yesterday I tried really hard to be grateful for my situation and act like a Big Girl and rely on God to get me through what I had already deemed to be a really bad day. All I wanted was for things to be the way they were, pre-baby. I was having incredibly selfish thoughts that even stretched into being jealous of my precious husband for being in the best shape of his life, while here I am jiggling all over the place like a bowl of jello.
It was a long day, and at the end of it I felt like I had been through some sort of emotional storm. I’d written a quick blog post about my weight loss strategy that was very “oh look at me, I’m so great and have everything pulled together,” when in reality I was just pissed off that I was even having to come up with a way to fit into my freaking pants. By bedtime, I was weary, exhausted, frustrated, and mad at myself for behaving so badly. I had also decided that Parker would be an only child. Ha.
As I laid in bed trying to fall asleep, I was reminded of God’s strength, and how perfect and complete it is when I am so very weak. It is more than enough, and I spent the whole day trying to rely on my own capacities that turned out to be so futile. Instead of crying in the floor and having a pity party, I should have been on my knees praying for strength and thanking God for blessing my life with such an incredible gift. He knew what he was doing last August when I got pregnant. It was not a surprise to Him at all, even if it sort of blew our socks off. It is all part of His great plan for my life, so why do I keep questioning it? I am doing exactly (exactly) what I’m supposed to be doing.
The Creator of the Universe has put me in charge of what He considers to be His finest work, a human life. What an awesome responsibility. A cute one, too. So on days like yesterday when I question His plan and wish for something different, I need to remember that I’m right where I should be, mothering the wonderful little son who needs me so desperately. I am so, so blessed.
Also, until about a month ago I thought “tummy time” meant that I laid him on my chest in such a way that our tummies touched. We have some catching up to do. Hmm.