Dear Future Self,

Dear future-self and parent of newborn son #2,

In the past 16 months, you have become quite the expert on parenting your now 16-month-old child. You feel comfortable, most days. You actually sleep most nights. And that panic of new parenting, that’s a memory not an active reality. I am writing you this note because in roughly six weeks or less, you're going to have another baby - and some of all of most of that expertise is going to come crashing down around your ears.  Surprise!  He'll be his own man and probably very different from his big brother... and oh wait, you'll still have a toddler too!

 I'm writing you this letter to remind you, when life feels crazy, that you'll make it through; to remind you of the things that you’ve learned; and to remind you of things that I am certain that you will forget or have already forgotten about those first few weeks of joy and delight [and sleeplessness]. So here we go:

 1) I know you think you are a superhero – and the reality is you are. In just a few short weeks, you will have either pushed a baby out of a unimaginably-small sized opening, or endured a major surgery to physically remove another human being (and an organ that you grew yourself what?!) from your body. That’s plenty of superhero-y-ness. That withstanding, you will then bleed for longer than is kosher to discuss [sorry readers!].  And your body will need to heal. Please give yourself grace to physically recover, and just acknowledge that you can’t actually do everything physically that you could right up to before giving birth. Please let people help you – and please tell people that you need them to help you.

 2) The emotional roller coaster that follows giving birth is nothing to shake a stick at – even though you feel crazy, I promise you, you felt this way last time too. Postpartum depression (PPD) is real, and if you think you’re wrestling with feelings that are self or other-destructive, or just too dark to handle yourself, please ask for help. But the reality is, even outside of PPD, remember how much your hormones fluctuate once a month, and then multiply that by 9 months times generating an organ and pushing out a human being, and know that it’s okay if you cry or have more emotions than normal or even feel a little bit crazy. It’s actually pretty darn normal for women who have babies – it’s just most people don’t talk about it or they’re far enough out that they don’t remember. You will return to sanity, I promise.

3) Laugh often.  As much as you possibly can, really.  It's surprisingly far more cathartic than worry, and makes all of those life-altering and cataclysmic decisions seem much more realistically-sized.  Plus kids are really funny, as are you as a new parent, if you don't take yourself too seriously.

4) The sleep deprivation is real – even if your baby is a good sleeper. Don’t underestimate how that plays into the equation as well. Imagine finals week on repeat for the first 6 weeks of this tiny human’s life. Which speaking of, I don’t know if this is actually factual for every baby or not, but I seem to remember that six weeks was somewhat of a magic number with S. So hang on for that. And don't get into serious conversations or attempt to make any permanent parenting decisions with your hubby after midnight.  Just trust me, and don't.  Also give yourself grace if you make up words, and struggle with full adult sentences.  Like blerg merg merg blerg.  Yeah.

5) Wear make-up occasionally - and clothes that you wear outside of the home.   You know, like pants not made of stretchy material. It seems counter-intuitive, but it will help you feel more human on those days that we just have to survive through!

6) Even though you SWORE that you would never be one of those parents who would proffer unsolicited baby advice, at some point after your little munchkin is born, you will find yourself opening your mouth around some other parent of a wee one, and advice will be spouting out.  And the reality is – you do this primarily because you want to be helpful, yes, but more so than that, because you just really want to share all those mundane things that make up most of your days and reality is, no one else really wants to hear about them. So when you meet a new(er) parent than you, you start gushing because you just want to connect – to share experiences. The reality is – there are better ways of connecting... like listening.  After all, that's mostly what you want, right?  So do yourself a favor this time around, and don't do that again.  Ask how it's going, empathize, but leave advice behind unless its requested.

7) Never regret the snuggle time - with the big one or the little one...  you'll miss it later when they decide they like wiggling way more than sitting still.

8) Every parent hits a point where you are just SO angry at this little teeny tiny bundle of cuteness that refuses to sleep or has just jettisoned poop all over you or just won't stop crying... please repeat after me - this feeling of being out of control, angry, and like you want to throw in the towel?  It is completely normal.  It does not make you a bad parent.  Every parent hits that point.  Every parent wrestles with those feelings.  It's completely normal.  What matters most is how you respond to those feelings and emotions.  How you act in response to them.  So put the baby down in a safe place, let him cry for a few minutes - he'll be fine, and you need it - and give yourself space to collect yourself, to calm down, and then respond.  Don't guilt yourself out for hitting your wall - everyone does.  Do what you need to do in order to respond well, out of love and not anger.

9) Dates are super important - make it happen!  Trust me, hard as it is to leave a little squirt with someone else, it's fantastic to come home rested and refreshed and more connected with your spouse.  And somehow the baby always seems to do okay too!

10) Remember that you matter too - and taking care of yourself is important for taking care of your husband and your kiddos.  That you are mom - and will always be mom - but that you are also Kristen, and when you are the healthiest version of you, that you are also a healthier mom as well.  You are not the sum of your children - nor is your identity defined solely by them. Take time to cultivate and foster things that you enjoy, even if it's just in the 5 minutes before bed.  I know there is NEVER enough time - and you have to carve it out of time for something else, but trust me, it is worth it.  It will sustain you on days that are hard - and it will bless your children and your husband in ways that you cannot imagine.

Remember, parenthood is a journey, an adventure, and a long trail, not a short one.  Remember how much fun you get to have with that teeny tiny human - so much that will be the same as it was with his brother.  So much that will be totally new and different.

Remember that God specifically gave you - not someone else who is more whatever - this beautiful baby.  And is equipping you - not someone else - to be their parent(s).  Lean on Him, and trust Him that He knows what He is doing.  You will make mistakes, yes.  Absolutely.  But you are the parent(s) that that He has chosen for them - Be faithful.  Be humble and repentant.  Surround yourself with community.  And trust that God knew what He was doing.  You are the right parent(s) for the job.  And you will make it through.

With love, for your future reflection, and those craziest of moments,
KD

Motherhood - finding joy in the chaos

Dear son(s),

This is coming a day late, and probably a dollar short, but here it is regardless.  I am so grateful for the opportunity to be a mommy - and specifically, your mommy.  S, with your advent, I became mom for the first time, and buckatoo (name forthcoming with your arrival) - you have doubled our joy and we can't wait to meet you.  Motherhood is a gift that I neither anticipated nor understood fully before these past 16 months, but for which and by which I am joyful and forever changed.

Yesterday, Mother's Day, was a hallmark of motherhood... S, you woke up, bright and early, ready to go at 5am - sleeping in apparently only happens at Grandma's house.  Your daddy generously got up with you - and prepared to make mommy a gloriously extravagant breakfast in bed, complete with Neighborhood Restaurant style cream of wheat and Eggs Benedict, coffee and fresh fruit - and a beautiful necklace from our favorite children's story.  

Meanwhile, you, delighted with exploration, learned how to open your bubble bath bottle, and with it, turned the kitchen floor into a slip-n-slide - leading to Daddy, slippin' and slidin' with the bacon pan, ending up with first degree burns on his thighs, from bacon fat poured generously all over himself (breakfast, however, was still delicious - and merely added to by mildly-too-soon-but-it's-still-funny giggles over the combination of best-laid plans and toddlerhood).  

Followed by grins, and snuggles and cuddles, and enthusiastic running through Urgent Care and church squealing "AH-VAHVAHVAH" in delight - closest interpretation we can translate that to is "I love you," but we're still not sure. Pulling out broccoli and lima beans everywhere, as you gleefully chortled your way through the hallways, running away from your very pregnancy heavy mommy and your crispy-fried daddy, giving grins to sick toddlers and headaches to hungover teenagers.

Followed by enthusiastic play in the sunshine and the joy of water splashing and spilling everywhere - with soaked toddlers (and parents) and happy grins and blood lips from too many teeth and too much toddler enthusiasm amidst parental tiredness and disappointment in moments that didn't go according to plans, but even so, honored the joy that is parenthood.

Because son, this is parenthood - well-laid plans and unexpected chaos.  Joy, and tiredness.  Frustration, pain, and inexplicable delight. Messes. Self-sacrifice.  Gratitude in the moment, and delayed gratitude.  Messy joy.  Choosing to laugh rather than cry because really, there is no other way. And joy so inexplicable that only tears can measure it fully.

I love the idea of mother's day - of flowers and breakfasts in bed and sweet notes of thanksgiving - and I will happily receive any and all of those with delight!  And, should there be a day without chaos, I will also happily receive that as well.  Just tell me when and where.

But the reality is - if all my eggs are in a basket for just this one perfect day - where I feel appreciated, loved, chaos-free and honored - then I will inevitably feel disappointed, both in myself and my ability to be the perfect mom, worthy of the facebook accolades of praise given on this one day, and in my experience of motherhood as well as Mother's Days.  Far better, however, I am learning that the joy in motherhood is found in the chaos, not in its absence.   

Last night, S, you woke up a few hours after bedtime, I'm guessing from a nightmare - screaming, yet exhausted.  When I went in to pick you up, you, my very active, never-stopping toddler, cuddled into my embrace and wrapped your little chubby arms around mine, holding on for dear life, as you gradually hiccuped yourself into quiet.  And we rocked and we sang like we used to when you were little...  and you, with your soft baby breath, held on to mommy and let me be your rock in the midst of your storm, even as you reminded me of what it really looks like to find joy in the midst of chaos.

This, little one, is the joy in motherhood.

I will never be a perfect mom to either one of you boys.  I will fail you, and yet my strength will come through in my willingness to say I'm sorry and ask for your forgiveness, not in my ability to "do it better." And my strength will be in vulnerability and courage - in a love that is fierce, yet tender, and always longs for the best for you even when you are at your worst.  That knows that I am honored and worthy daily, with or without flowers and chocolates and breakfasts in bed, even when I'm at my worst - and that demonstrates to you daily, through our love, our silliness, and our discipline, the worth and value you have, given not by your Daddy or by me, although we hope to demonstrate it, but ultimately by your Maker that does not depend on your perfection and comes regardless of your performance.

You will never be perfect sons - nor in any way, will you be able to "make me complete." I am assured and certain that by motherhood, I will come more undone.  With each graham cracker crusted fistful of joy and long night awake.

There will be chaos.  There will be failure.  There will be mess.

But the joy is found in the midst of all of that - the giggles, the sun-soaked glee, the AH-VAHVAHVAH lima-bean enthusiasm, and the snuggles in the middle of the night. 

And that is not a consolation prize - that is the prize.  Motherhood is a gift that I will never - would never - exchange or return.  I am a better woman for it.  And I am so deeply deeply honored to be able to be your mommy.  Thank you, for giving me the opportunity, each and every day, to trust Jesus more fully, to need Him more, and to learn to find love and beauty and gratitude in every moment.

With love,

Mommy