Dear Daisy, I didn't have an identity crisis when I became your mom
& why I owe it all to Jesus
Dear Daisy,
I didn’t have an identity crisis when I became your mom. When I was pregnant, and even since you were born, I’ve heard mamas talk about this phenomenon. They say that after having a baby, they lost their identity, they didn’t know who they were anymore, they didn’t recognize themselves, the list goes on. I never had a baby before (obviously), so I thought I would feel that way too. But honestly, I can’t really wrap my head around it.
My love, the only way I can describe it is that being your mom has felt like the most natural thing in the world. (Sleepless nights for the first 3 months of your life? No, not natural. Blisters on my nipples from breastfeeding? Not my favorite. Perpetually covered in poo, pee, or spit up? An unexpected part of motherhood but strangely I don’t mind.) I feel like I was made to be your mama. And I have to give the credit to Jesus.
When I was younger, I found my worth, my value, my identity in all the wrong things. Helping others, being liked, being loved, making people laugh, my appearance, my ethnic background, my career, my occupational success at a young age. And the Lord revealed to me that my only identity is that I am a child of God. I am loved by Jesus on my worst days and my best. Period. The end. Nothing more, nothing less. I am His. And so are you baby.
This revelation at the time nearly ended my career. I was a behavioral health technician at a rehab for individuals struggling with substance abuse and addiction while in grad school pursuing a master’s degree to be a therapist. I had found myself in roles which included helping others and being “successful”, and I didn’t know who I’d be without those things. Thankfully the Lord made it easy. I’m just His. Even if I lost everything, even if I gained everything, I would only ever be His. Oh, how I cried in the car when Jesus revealed that to me. I was so tired chasing my own worth in the things of this world. And He was inviting me to rest in being loved by Him.
I remember living in my one-bedroom apartment, a sweet little 1940 plant-filled abode tucked away on brick streets here in Central Florida. Goodness, I just loved that time of my life. Independent, free, self-sufficient, social. And I remember coming home one evening from the office, where my framed degrees hang mighty on the wall, where all my friends were just a phone call or text away, and most nights, I was with them. At a coffee shop, a concert, a church, a home. I opened the door, turned on the light, and it was quiet. My stomach twisted. My heart was sad. Something was missing.
I could pay the bills, but I couldn’t come home to anyone. I could laugh all night with friends, but I couldn’t hear the giggles or cries of a precious baby. I had the entire place to myself, but no husband to greet at the door, to brush my teeth with, to crawl into bed with, and to wake when I had a bad dream.
And praise the Lord, now I do. Being a wife and mom is the greatest joy of my life, behind of course the joy found in knowing Christ, and in being known and found by Him.
Baby girl, being your mom is my favorite thing. Perhaps that and being daddy’s wife. What a role, what a stewardship, what a gift to be your mama. Every one of your smiles makes every challenge worth it. All of your giggles, an antidote to forget the difficulty. Even your cries are blessings to my ears, since they are evidence that you exist at all. And to witness your sleepy little self, better than any night out I could ever have.
I love you baby. Jesus loves you. You’re already His. Nothing more, nothing less. All else is a calling, a responsibility, or a distraction. If you’re confused about which is which, just ask Him. He’ll show you.
Love always & always,
Mama
P.S. I would’ve written you sooner baby, but you only just stopped crying like a banshee and waking up every 2 to 4 hours through the night. Girl, you are passionate. When you’ve got something to say, boy, do you let us know! Well, that and mama and daddy like to stay active. We flew to South Carolina for a wedding when you were 3 weeks old because daddy was a groomsman, took a road trip when you were 4 weeks old to Georgia because our house church was having a retreat and we really wanted to go, and you’ve been to Lakeland, St. Petersburg, and Disney here in Florida so many times I’ve lost track of it all. You’re a trooper!
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Absolutely agree. I feel the same way about life after having my kids.
Beautifully written. I wish my mom had written something like this for me.