Pursuing my doctorate, returning to work full-time, and becoming a mother was just too much last year for me and something had to give…so I laid my blog aside. I find joy and comfort in writing. My New Year’s Resolution was to return. It’s an avenue, an outlet, and a way that I find strength in sharing. I’ve changed the name of my blog to better fit all of my new adventures and pursuits. In everything that I am…wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, colleague…the center of it is and will always be, my faith. “The Faith-Filled Woman” is my new blog. In hopes of sharing, encouraging, learning, and growing with other women who are going through the exact same things!
Comment, Share, Enjoy! Thanks for reading!
Comment, Share, Enjoy! Thanks for reading!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Recently (and by recently I mean three months ago), we celebrated my son, Brooks’ first birthday. His theme was, “My Oh My, This Year Flew By!” and indeed it had! Everyone tells you how fast it goes, but like everything else in life, you have to truly experience it for yourself to fully understand the magnitude of what they mean. Thanks to my close companions…Pinterest, Etsy, and Google Search, mommy found all she needed (and so much more), to make the birthday theme come together perfectly.
One of my most favorite ideas (not original, of course) was asking the guests to write a letter to Brooks that will be compiled into a book. He will receive this book on his 18th birthday to read the hopes, wishes, dreams, advice, and most of all the prayers that the people who love him had and still have for him as he enters into the realms of adulthood. For him to know he was loved, supported, and prayed for his entire life, by not only his parents, but for all the family and friends in our lives is a gift more powerful than we could ever physically give him.
As I reflected back on the past year as a new mother one thing that has been the most difficult for me was feeling a bit confused…maybe even a little lost. You see, my whole life, I’ve always known my purpose. From the time that I was little, I had always wanted to be a teacher. That dream turned into a self-fulfilling career. A career that I pursued whole-heartedly. I wanted to make a difference in the lives of my students. To show them that their dreams, really could come true. I got my masters and even began pursuing my doctorate in educational leadership before my son, Brooks, came along. My career aspirations continued in the field of education, finding new avenues and ways to impact the lives of children. I had woken up every single day genuinely excited to go to my job, knowing that I was needed and my life had a purpose…but then I had my son.
As I prepared to become a mother, I was going to be a working mom and have it all. I would be a dang good mother, but I would still have my career and purpose too! I was not ready, nor was I prepared, to feel the way that I did…and quite frankly, still do.
Leaving my son in the care of another person to watch him (and essentially help raise him) for 8 hours a day was by far the most difficult thing I have ever experienced. Extending my maternity leave to the very last day that I could without losing my job and ugly crying in my principal’s office about how I have never felt so torn in my life, was what I did to try and fight my way through it. I wasn’t ready to quit my job of ten years, but I physically had NO IDEA how I was going to walk back through those front doors.
Someone else was going to rock my son to sleep. Someone else was going to console him as he cried. Someone else was going to kiss his boo-boos and tell him it would be alright. Someone else was going to laugh with him, read him books, and watch as he learned and tried new things for the first time. The mom guilt…Oh, the mom guilt!
It was all a blur (due to the uncontrollable tears, really), but somehow I managed to return to work. My heart ached and the joy I had found in teaching had been replaced with this new joy I found in motherhood. It left me feeling a little lost when I returned to work. A little torn. A little confused.
My passion, my purpose, had changed. It’s not that I didn’t love my students, families, school, and job anymore, it’s just that it was no longer something that completely fulfilled me. Something else had filled my heart….something else needed my devoted love and attention. I never thought this mother thing would touch me the way it had and ultimately challenge everything I thought I had ever wanted.
I wish I could say that a year later, I have it all figured out. But I don’t. I still wake up every morning, torn. I have students who need me and I want to be there for them, but I also have a son who loves his mama. I try with every ounce of me to do both right. When I’m at work, I try to be committed to my students and families. When I’m at home, I try to be committed to my family. If I'm honest with you...It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
If I have learned anything in this life, it is this…you don’t have to have it all figured out. I know with time, patience, and faith that everything will all be ok. I’m trying to stay obedient to the calling on my life. If I’m supposed to be a teacher. I’ll stay. If I’m supposed to be a full-time mother. I’ll stay. If I'm to do both. I will.
I’m such a devoted and passionate person, that part of me is struggling with feeling like I have to choose one or the other…and maybe the lesson I’m learning is that I don’t have to.
But for now, I’ll pray and walk it out one day at a time, one foot in front of the other, trying my hardest to give both the devotion they deserve.
We have an amazing daycare provider who loves Brooks and cares for him in the best ways! I know he’s safe, loved, and cared for. Meanwhile, I’ll try to suppress the mom guilt and navigate this new, conflicted, messy, beautiful purpose in my life.
