Further Down the Road

There’s a trend right now where people share what they would say to their younger self over coffee. I’ve enjoyed reading what people have to say, it’s been a window into regrets or shortcomings but also a window into the wisdom attained through living life. The main observation I’ve made is that there are things people want to remember as they move forward in life. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. However, my reflection has been more on the side of what I don’t want to forget. Specifically what I don’t want to forget as a woman who gets to be in other women’s lives. 

To the mom further down the road of motherhood. 

We all started in the same place. Whether that moment brought joy, uncertainty …or any host of emotions - we remember the moment we knew we were going to be a mom. The positive pregnancy test that led to countless doctor visits, ultra sounds, hearing the heartbeat and ultimately the pain that brought forth new life. The first cry shattering any preconceived notion of what that moment would feel like…when you held flesh made and shaped within you to your chest. Your own tears ushering you into the new club - mother, mama, mom. It would be years before you would tire of hearing that repeated. You became someone’s mama - no one else on earth could be more of a fit for that child so intricately created and intentionally placed within your arms. 

No manual to read, because this holy ground had to be trespassed by you. The reality that forced you to grapple with being needed now, more than ever before while simultaneously being in your season of greatest need as you heal physically and emotionally from bringing life into the world. 

It’s here, from this moment, that my reflection brings forth my greatest hope in remembering, or in my own words - not forgetting. 

I don’t want to forget the sleepless nights. Let’s be honest most people “remember” not sleeping, but they can’t recall the heaviness of eyes, the short temper with a spouse or loved one, the moments when you wished someone would step in so you could just rest…the toll of compounded days without adequate rest. Being anxious for nighttime to roll around, because it’s when you feel most alone, unseen or supported. Attempting to soothe the newborn cries, while your own tears stream from your face as you silently question…”can I do this?” 

I don’t want to forget the days without showering. How something previously so a part of my normal daily routine, suddenly becomes a luxury. The smell of hormones shifting, spilled milk, healing wounds and night sweats wrapping me in a bubble of disgust, worried about anyone coming near - because now you can’t fake that you have it all together. Yet, even when you get a moment to shower - finding yourself rushing because you know you’re needed, and is that the baby crying? 

I don’t want to forget how much newborns long to be held - contact naps are cute for the first few days, and then creeps in the “productivity scale”. Slowly you see laundry piling up, dishes in the sink, and a host of other household chores reminding you that life has continued to move on. You wrestle with your own definition of what it means to be productive, followed by the shifting of your priorities. Your once perfect routine shattered by the newborn snuggles you’re told to enjoy. It’s okay to enjoy them (or not…) and also enjoy space, routine, and if you’re like me…a clean house. 

I don’t want to forget feeling over touched. Longing for one moment where my body felt like my own again. 

I don’t want to forget the countless struggles that come with figuring out nursing, or pumping…because you just want your baby to “have the best” but you feel it coming at the cost of your own wellbeing. The scrolling through formula ingredients…only to be disgusted by the options we have, and not finding the “right” one. 

I don’t want to forget to ask my friends about their marriage. How I can pray, and support the challenges that come with less time, less capacity and yet, a deep desire to not lose the person who came first. I also don’t want to forget the moments where you’re annoyed that men seem to get off easy. Your body changes, your mind doesn’t shut off, and you look over at your snoring husband and think…must be nice. 

I don’t want to forget how annoying and unhelpful the sentiment “it goes fast” is to hear. I don’t want to forget that it actually doesn’t feel fast in the moment - and days often seem to drag on. 

I don’t want to forget to ask questions beyond “how are you doing” (with little time to actually hear) to creating more space for questions like: what’s it like to be you right now?

I don’t want to forget watching my first baby, and their “baby” features slip through my hands - especially as you look down at the new baby with a new reality of how fast it really does go. I don’t want to forget the tears, and wondering if you’re missing out on important things with your first as you care for your second. 

I don’t want to forget how intense postpartum is. Because when I’m given the opportunity and gift, because let’s be honest - the days of expecting to be invited in should long go out of style. I will see the mom, and intentionally first care for her and not focus on the moment to hold the newborn, unless that’s what she needs the most - a break. 

I don’t want to forget how exhausting it is to keep up with text messages. Friends you're used to talking with and seeing on a daily…those friendships will still be there. 

I don’t want to forget when plans are canceled or altered last minute it’s not personal, that mama has discerned what’s best for her that day..and she doesn’t have the strength to carry your disappointment too - and it’s best to not assume she hasn’t considered that. 

I don’t want to forget to hold space. It’s best to not assume or project what someone else needs, just be. 

I don’t want to forget how helpful that meal is (and the one down the road when you’re expected to have figured it out by now), and those snacks... say “I see you” and I want to care for you. 

I don’t want to forget to send the message, letting go of any expectation of a response - but praying that it meets that mama with words of encouragement she can hear. 

I don’t want to forget to let go of my own hopes and expectations because it’s not personal - she’s doing what she can to make it through the day and it was probably a really long night. 

This is just the beginning. There’s moms in all seasons of motherhood. There’s the mom waiting by the front door wondering where their child is in the middle of the night. The mom dropping her “baby” off at college for the first time. The mom handing car keys off to their teenager. The mom dancing with her son at his wedding, wondering where on earth time went. The mom who is now a grandparent. 

Life is full of seasons. There will be good ones ahead, and new challenges with each stage - as we are gifted with the opportunity to enter into the next - let’s extend the grace that comes with experience and not forget - we were there, we had similar thoughts, we struggled, we enjoyed - we have the benefit of being able to look back…but our friend, that mama, is “in it” and she needs a friend who hasn’t forgotten. 

Don’t forget. 

Don’t forget to encourage moms about the joys ahead and not just about the next challenge or hardship coming our way. 

Don’t forget because your gift of remembering may be just the thing that gets someone through. 

I’ll be the mom further down the road someday, and I hope in hindsight my experience will encourage me to lean in, and be more present because I remember what I don’t want to forget.