Never Enough: Living in Tension

This is the start of my newest article for Joyful Life Magazine.
You can read the entire article here!

I didn’t plan on working. And I didn’t plan on staying at home. To be honest, I didn’t have much of a plan at all when I went into marriage. We were still in school and young when we got married, and children seemed a long way off into the future.

I had worked in various jobs since graduating from college, but when our daughter was born on our seventh wedding anniversary, I suddenly felt the weight of work in a new way: working meant being away from her, and being with her meant being away from work.

Hope for When You Never Feel Like Enough

As a teacher at the time, her birth in May was convenient; I had the whole summer to get used to being a new mom. But the months sped by with unnerving speed, and before I knew it, I found myself in orientation meetings that August, combing the schedule for an opportunity to relieve my engorged breasts. I slipped away to pump during a break and tried desperately to keep milk from dripping onto my work slacks.

It was my first taste of the tension of being a working mom.

Read the rest of the article here, at Joyful Life Magazine!

Still Waiting by Ann Swindell

Messy Homes and Open Hearts: An Article For Deeply Rooted

We were new to the area, and I was getting desperate for some friends. After the proverbial dust had settled from our move back to my hometown, I found myself more displaced than I expected to be. Sure, I hadn’t lived here in over 15 years, but it was my hometown. Why did it feel so hard to connect with other women? Why did settling in feel suddenly foreign? 

Well, for one thing, I had changed—I was returning to my hometown now as a wife and a mom, and the unspoken rules for friendships had drastically shifted. In high school, friendship had been based off of mutual passions and pastimes (mine had been volleyball and poetry). We had weekends and weeknights to spend together, studying and laughing and driving around our mid-size town until we made it to Steak N Shake.  

Welcoming Friends Inside Your Messy Home at annswindell.com

But here in these early years of motherhood, friendship was much more opaque. There might be other women in town who loved writing, but where would I find them? There might be other moms who loved to discuss books and theology, but how would I discover them? No, friendship in these years, I knew, was probably going to stem from being in similar stages of life. I needed some other moms who were on the same steep learning curve of figuring out how to care for the little ones at our feet. 

But I needed someone to let me in. Although I was back in my own town, I was the new girl, and for the first time in years I felt unsure about how to start friendships.

Read the rest of the article over at the Deeply Rooted blog!

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The Unhappiest Year of My Life: The High and Holy Calling of Motherhood

This is one of my articles for Today’s Christian Woman.

Everything about having a baby is touted as happy: the rounding belly, the cute maternity clothes, the baby showers, the adorable tiny clothes.

Yes, pregnancy can be difficult for some women (for me it was very hard), but the overarching sentiment is that having a baby is an amazing, wonderful thing. And it truly is. The miracle of life, the gift of a child, the hope of a growing family—these are all amazing, wonderful things. Beautiful things. Happy things, even. But for me, the first year of my daughter’s life wasn’t very happy.

Actually, it was the unhappiest year of my life.

I knew that having a child would change things; many of my friends had already become parents, and I had watched them go from women with time for coffee dates and professional lives to moms who were worn out and frazzled. I didn’t expect the transition to parenthood to be easy. I didn’t expect that I would sleep much or that I would have a lot of extra time.

Still, I did expect to be happy. I thought that having a baby—a baby that we’d hoped and prayed for—would bring happiness in the midst of sleep deprivation and the transition into life as parents.

How to Make it When Motherhood is Hard. www.annswindell.com

But I wasn’t happy; at least not for a good while. Don’t get me wrong—I was thankful. Ella and I were both healthy, I loved her immensely, and seeing my husband as a father was incredible. But the combination of exhaustion, the lack of time for myself, the shift in my identity to becoming a mother, the change in our marriage relationship, and the depth of responsibility I felt for my daughter, all combined with those powerful postpartum hormones, left me feeling very, very unhappy.

As a new mom, I missed my old life. Would I ever be happy again? #motherhood Share on X

I missed my old life. It’s not that I didn’t want to be Ella’s mom; I loved her more than I thought was possible. But I missed the freedom and rest that I realized I would never get back. I missed being able to put myself first, something that felt increasingly impossible. I missed who I was, and I had the realization that I was never going to be that woman again.

A Shared Experience

Women don’t always talk about it, but many are unhappy—to some degree—during that first year of motherhood. The Max Planck Institute for Demographic Research in Rostock, Germany, recently reported that the “drop in happiness experienced by parents after the birth of first child was larger than the experience of unemployment, divorce or the death of a partner” (Source). Similarly, an earlier study published in Great Britain noted that “parents often report statistically significantly lower levels of happiness, life satisfaction, marital satisfaction and mental well-being compared with non-parents” (Source).

Here’s what some other moms told me about their first year of motherhood:

“I wanted adult conversation. Because I was doing same routine everyday, I felt my intelligence and self esteem diminishing.”

“Having no time to myself and being utterly sleep deprived brought out bitter anger that I’d never dealt with before and was without tools to deal with.”

“I was terribly caught off guard by how my relationship with my husband changed. I suddenly had experiences and a life he couldn’t relate to.”

“I lost any desire for sex because of the fatigue and the physical and hormonal changes.”

Additionally, for many new moms, the shift in their spiritual life—on top of and because of all of the other changes—can cause a great deal of unhappiness, too. One mom remembers that she “found it completely impossible to pray because my mind simply would not stop buzzing with so many things.” Time for a devotional life dwindles down to nothing, or emotional and hormonal changes send us into a dark spiral of depression.

So: the drop in happiness, the loss of identity and adult interaction, the lack of sleep and energy, the change in our marriages and even our relationship with God—these are high costs that most mothers pay time and time again in the early years of child-rearing. So why have children? Are mothers giving themselves over to a life of exhaustion and self-loss?

The Cost of Motherhood

In some ways, the answer is yes. Yes, every intentional mother (and father, albeit in different ways), is giving herself over to a life of exhaustion and self-loss. The cost is very real, and, at times, very painful. And still, we have a model who taught us about the surprising gift we can receive through exhaustion and self-loss: Jesus.

Jesus was, undoubtedly, exhausted at times by his ministry on earth (Mark 4:37-39), and all of his life was aimed at the supreme act of self-loss for the sake of those he loved through his death on the cross. Does that mean that as mothers, we are called to give up everything, too?

No, not in the same way Jesus did. We are not the savior of our children—Christ is. We are not supposed to find our identity or value in our children—that is found only in Christ. We are not asked to find our value in our role as moms—our value is in who Jesus says we are, not in what we do. But the way of Christ is the call to pick up our cross and lay down our life (Matt. 16-24-26), and for many of us, mothering will reveal the depths of that call like nothing else. We will be asked to lay aside our immediate desires for the sake of our children’s wellbeing and growth. We will be asked to consider one little life—or many little lives—as more important than our own (Phil. 2:3-4). And we will feel the loss of self in new and, often, painful ways—sometimes in ways that make us very unhappy.

We are not the savior of our children—Christ is. #motherhood Share on X

The Gift in the Struggle

Yet, there is a deeper joy that goes beyond the cost of our unhappiness—the gift of sufficiency in Christ. For Christ himself tells us that “…whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25). In our weakness and our pain and our sorrow, we are offered the gift of Christ’s strength: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). In the places where, as mothers, it often feels most like we are losing our own lives—losing our freedom, our time, our sleep, our energy—we have the opportunity to find our lives through the sufficiency of Christ as we rely on him for everything. One mom puts it this way: “Being a mom drove me to my knees in helplessness before God, which in the long run did a great deal of good in me.”

So while having a child may make us “unhappier,” perhaps that is not a bad thing.[1] Perhaps the gift of getting to experience Christ’s strength in our weakness, perhaps letting the struggle of motherhood reveal our reliance upon Him—perhaps these are the very things that will lead us into joy that runs deeper than fleeting happiness. I know it has for me. I don’t always feel thrilled about the responsibilities that I carry as a mother, and I don’t usually feel happy about being exhausted. Still, I’ve never felt more joyful than when I’m holding my daughter in my arms, aware that my loving Heavenly Father—who sees me, cares for me, and knows my needs—is holding me, too.

 

[1] If you are struggling with deep sadness that persists or anxiety that won’t go away, you may have post-partum depression. Please seek professional help and start the journey to healing—in Christ, healing is possible.

 

Still Waiting is available now! www.stillwaitingbook.com

How to Thrive as a New Mom

My newest piece is up at Darling Magazine: “Thriving with a Newborn.” I’ve written about it before, but the transition into motherhood wasn’t the easiest for me. Through this article, I’m hoping that my distilled experience can offer the equivalent of a warm hug to some of you as new moms (or as soon-to-be new moms). Be encouraged; there is grace in the challenging seasons, and hope is always around the corner!

How to Thrive as a New Mom: it's possible and I wish someone would have told me these things sooner!

Four weeks after my daughter was born, I had never known a love as fierce and all-consuming as the love I had for her. But I was also exhausted, and feeling unsteady. Those early days — full of the lack of sleep and the crazy hormones — had me running on empty.

How to Thrive as a New Mom: give yourself lots of grace and set low expectations...#mom Share on X

Although the newborn stage is short in the grand scheme of life, it can feel unending when you’re living in it. The constant needs of a newborn, the wacky sleep schedule, the high emotions — they are intense, intense things. Thankfully, I made it through, and I would say that I was even able to thrive during those early days with Ella, although it felt different than I thought it would.

So, while I’m not a perfect parent by any stretch of the imagination, or even a long-time parent, here are my four how-tos for thriving in those first weeks and months of motherhood.

1. Set attainable goals.
Prior to having a child, I had been used to accomplishing lots of things every day. I achieved at work, I developed friendships, I cooked meals and washed clothes and bought groceries. But now, I had two goals: keep Ella alive, and keep myself alive. Ella’s needs, although high, were straightforward: milk, sleep, touch. For me to stay alive was very different. I needed food, yes, and I desperately needed sleep. Friends brought meals and family watched Ella while I napped. But I also needed hope — which leads to my second goal.

New moms: don't beat yourself up because you aren't getting much done. You're protecting and nurturing a new life. Wow. #mom Share on X

2. Take a few minutes for yourself everyday.
Even if it’s short, even if it doesn’t look like it used to. My emotional lifeline in those early weeks was dependent upon me getting a few moments to think, reflect, and pray every day. Some days, even getting fifteen minutes alone felt like a battle, and then I would sit and read and journal my prayers through tears or drooping eyelids. Sometimes I just turned on music; sometimes I read. But I needed several moments every day where I wasn’t responsible for this new person in order to internally re-charge.  Take that time for yourself; it isn’t selfish, it’s necessary.

Read about the other two points here, over at Darling’s site!

 

Kids Aren’t the Priority. Marriage Is.

My newest piece is up at RELEVANT Magazine–a piece about how to cultivate a healthy marriage after kids come along. It’s something I’m passionate about, both personally and culturally, and I’ve written about it for Today’s Christian Woman, as well. Read the start of the article below:

Keeping Your Marriage Healthy after having kids....so important!

 

I was concerned that becoming parents might weaken our marriage. I wasn’t afraid that it would ruin our marriage. Michael and I had made promises to God and each other to stay the course, come hell or high water. We also had—and still have—a deep friendship and camaraderie in our relationship. But I was, admittedly, nervous that having a child might throw some of that off-kilter—that, perhaps, adding another human being in the mix might strain our connection and closeness.

And you know what?

It did.

Our daughter was born on our seventh anniversary, and her birthday has become symbolic to me: Those things that were solely about me and my husband—the things that used to be just about us—those things have shifted. Even our marriage—our very anniversary—is shared, now.

And that’s a good thing.

Because although it feels like it might rub me raw some days, getting to be a parent is a gift. God’s word unabashedly declares that children are a blessing from him (Psalm 127:3-5), that each child is intentionally created by God (Psalm 139), and that children show us a picture of what it means to be great in the Kingdom of Heaven (Matthew 18:1-3). I believe in the Bible. And I also believe my experience—my daughter is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received.

But being a parent is also a gift because it can strengthen our marriages, if we are intentional about growing as parents and spouses. Growing as parents without growing as spouses is putting the proverbial cart before the horse, and both the marriage and the parenting will suffer. But the opportunity to grow as friends and lovers—as husband and wife—as we are parenting? This is a truly good gift.

Growing as parents without growing as spouses is putting the proverbial cart before the horse. Share on X

Here’s how to be purposeful about growing as spouses even as we parent those small humans who are making lots of noise in the house:

Make Time Just for the Two of You

Yes, it’s going to be a lot harder to get one-on-one, meaningful time together now that you’re parents. But do it anyway; your marriage is worth it.

When Michael and I were dating, engaged and then married before becoming parents, we had so much time to be together. Time to explore the arboretum. Time to talk over long meals. Time to see movies and sleep in. Now, as parents (and remember, we only have one right now; God bless all parents of multiple children. Amen.), a lot of our time is spent doing parent-y things: feeding our child, playing with our child, reading to our child, bathing, cleaning and clothing our child. Her schedule shapes a great deal of what we can and can’t do.

So we have a weekly date night. Sometimes we get a sitter and go out. Sometimes we talk and eat ice cream and watch a movie at home after she goes to bed (Alleluia for the 7:30 p.m. bed time). But we are consistent about making time to meaningfully connect so that we can operate as friends and lovers … and not solely as parenting partners.

Make time to connect as spouses so you don't operate solely as parenting partners. Share on X

Serve Your Spouse, Not Just Your Kids

Before children, it’s just easier to care for our spouse—to stop at the store and pick up a favorite cereal when we’re running low, or to refill the gas tank in the car before it drops to E. But when the days fill up with attending to the basic needs of children, we can get worn out with serving anyone but ourselves.

The gift in this, though, is that parenting reminds us in fresh ways that it’s not all about me. Caring for one or two or 10 little humans forces us to put the needs of another before our own—often to a degree that we’ve never had to experience before. Waking up 10 times in one night? Sure. Making meals and washing clothes for kids who don’t have the fine motor skills to do it for themselves? Of course.

But if we’re so exhausted by serving our kids that we can’t—or won’t—serve our spouse, we’re headed down the wrong path. We may not be able to fill up the gas tank on a whim or pick up roses on the way home, but we can still serve our spouse in simple, thoughtful ways through the week. A note left on a dashboard, the offer to take the kids while she gets a night out, or the willingness to clean the dishes—these little acts of service help keep marriages healthy in the midst of exhausting days and years.

Read the rest of the article here, at RELEVANT!

Related post: Connecting After Kids

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Connecting after Kids

Connecting after kids

My newest piece is up today at Today’s Christian Woman–an article about how Michael and I sought to intentionally connect as a married couple (and not just as parenting partners) after having our daughter. What follows is an abbreviated version of the full article, which you can read here!

Pregnancy was difficult for me. Recovery from an unexpected C-section was difficult for me. The initial transition into motherhood was difficult for me. The lack of sleep was difficult for me. Why I expected our marriage to fly through all of these difficulties without any significant emotional ramifications is beyond me. Maybe it’s because, after being married for seven years, I assumed we would continue to connect well and operate the same way.

I was wrong.

It’s not that Michael and I didn’t still love each other. It’s not that we didn’t continue to have date nights. It’s not that we didn’t still spend time together. But it felt . . . different. felt different. At times, I felt overwhelmed by how much my daughter needed me and by how little time there was to do anything other than care for her. As we emerged from the newborn stage, I found myself unsure about how to continue to invest in and develop my own passions, let alone the connection points in our marriage, when I felt so immersed in this new, tiny life.

Our marriage didn’t feel the same.

Looking back, I can say now to myself: of course it wasn’t the same. You had a baby. Your attentions are now divided. Your hormones are out of whack. You are a family of three rather than two. The external change is huge; the emotional change will be huge too.

But I didn’t have those thoughts then. I just had a lot of feelings—and primarily, I felt less connected to my husband than I ever had before. I didn’t want this shift to lead to a slow fade of operating as parenting partners rather than emotionally connected spouses.

As we talked with each other and with friends, we both committed, again, to making sure our marriage thrived in every season of life—including this new one with a baby. So we kicked our intentionality up a notch and made connecting as a married couple—and not just as parenting partners—a top priority in our lives.

The most important part of connecting as spouses? Prayer. We prayed—individually and together—for God’s grace and wisdom as we sought to stay meaningfully united in this new stage of life.

With God’s help, we also made several practical choices. First, we pared down our schedule. We had both been carrying full schedules before Ella was born; after her birth we realized our pace of life was not sustainable if we wanted to continue to have a healthy marriage. Michael took a break from graduate school, and while we kept attending a small group at church, we stepped down from leading it.

Secondly, we worked to share new experiences together. Parenting Ella was a new experience we loved, but we needed to continue to invest in our relationship as friends and lovers. Due to our exhaustion, date night had become routine—dinner at home and Shark Tank on the couch. So we mixed things up. We went to a matinee downtown. We went to a friend’s wedding without our daughter, even though she was invited. We took a vacation. These experiences offered new avenues within which our relationship could grow.

Marriage is about the God our marriage is meant to point to; it is about us looking and loving more like Jesus. Share on X

Thirdly, we went to a counseling and marriage retreat. With the help of a Christian counselor, we were given practical tools for how to grow together emotionally in this new season of life. We walked away from that week with a shared grid for how to encourage and support one another better.

But there’s no quick solution or easy answer to navigating these new waters since becoming parents. Our marriage has changed emotionally—as well as physically and practically—because we have changed. The transformation into becoming parents together has been a beautiful, stressful change for us, and with every new stage our daughter grows into, our marriage will have to grow as well. Our needs and hers are constantly shifting, and it will continue to take great intentionality and time—as well as heartfelt engagement with one another—to stay emotionally connected.

What does stay the same is God, along with the promises we made to one another at the altar so many years ago. We are committed to keeping our marriage as healthy as we can because, ultimately, our marriage isn’t about us. It is about the God our marriage is meant to point to; it is about us looking and loving more like Jesus; and it is also, now, about a little girl who is toddling around our home. That is worth our time, our love, our intentionality, and our commitment—in any season of life.

Read the full article here at Today’s Christian Woman!