Anne Lamott is my current hero. I don’t know anything about
her except for one book: Operating Instructions. It’s her journal about her
son’s first year and her struggles as a single parent. It’s good writing, but
there’s one marvelous thing about Anne… She’s HONEST.

I need some honesty right now. I especially need some
honesty from a mother right now. Because while Zeke is beautiful and wonderful
and miraculous and everything I dreamed of and prayed for… this is HARD.

I’ve avoided writing, journaling, even talking for the past
few weeks. I’ve worked on mostly keeping my mouth shut… or focusing on talking
about something other than Zeke. The reason? I’m worried about what I’ll say.
I’m worried that when the next mom bends over his cute little face and asks me
if I’m so in love with him, “No� will pop out of my mouth before I can stop it.
I’m worried that the next time somebody asks if they can hold him I’ll say “You
can keep him� before I forget to pretend I’m reluctant to let him go from my
arms.

 

In all honesty those are real thoughts that swim in my
brain. Mostly at 7am, when I’ve been up for 2 hours, and Zeke is nowhere near
going back to sleep. Of course after I’ve had a nap, he returns to being the
most cute and cuddly little dream I’ve ever had. I don’t know which thoughts
are real. I just know they both exist in my head and neither seems to be
winning the war for dominance just yet.

 

The good news is that I have a few wonderful people in my
life who have had kids before and they’ve been honest about the hard parts. So…
now that I’ve come out of hiding I’m embracing one motto: This Is Normal. I no
longer believe I’m bad a mom for not wanting to be awake at 3am. I no longer
believe that wanting to hand him to someone else so I can eat my dinner at a
normal human pace is a bad thing. I am just as normal as every other mother of
a 3-week-old baby. The only difference? I want to talk about it.

 

I think it’s important for women who are not yet mother’s to
have an honest space created and ready for them before they have children. And
since we live in a community that is mostly just beginning to transition from
singles to newly-marrieds… now is a good time to create that space for future
mothers.

 

Ladies: it’s the most beautiful, wonderful, supernatural,
awful, torturing, self-killing thing God

ever does. There. I said it.

 

Actually… there’s the point: Self-killing. I’ve never
realized just how selfish I was until Zeke arrived. 3 weeks ago I never would
have checked yes to selfishness on the sin quiz. Of course there’s the normal
human amount… but I could definitely point to various acts on a daily basis
that were done for someone else’s benefit. See? Proof I’m not selfish.

 

Until there’s a small creature that demands me and only me
24 hours a day. Then I find out that the selfishness box deserved a giant red
X. And then a whole bunch of thoughts in my head that prove a few more boxes
need checkmarks as well.

 

So now Zeke and I… we’re on a journey. I’m daily asking God
for an unselfish heart, a willingness to love Zeke more than myself… all day
long. And I’m also asking for wisdom about parenting a newborn… and helping
Zeke on his journey as well.

 

Cause Zeke has a problem too. He’s also selfish. We
sometimes have simultaneous crying sessions because we each want what we want
and somehow those two things are conflicting. And Zeke doesn’t know how to give
up his side and let Mommy have her way just yet. Mentally… and after a nap… I
can tell you that he’s not supposed to know that. But one day he will… and
we’re on a journey to get there.

 

One day Zeke is going to be the little boy at the swimming
pool who doesn’t punch the other kid in the nose for taking his toy… but
willingly shares. Zeke will be the little boy in kindergarten who helps other
kids stand in line to take their turn at the slide… because he knows about
taking turns. Zeke is going to be a man who knows that life-giving community is
where you prefer others and honor them. I know these things about him… I know
these visions of his destiny.

 

…and I know it’s gonna be a journey before we get there. But
we will get there… together.