Motherhood Brought Out the Worst in Me

I looked into her little face, and it’s as if all nine months of carrying her evaporated in that moment – she was here, an actual person, a part of me, but fully her own. My early entrance into motherhood was blissful. I was in love with my baby. Our days were spent mostly together, I missed her terribly on the days that I worked, and I just couldn’t believe how sweet it was to be her mama.

Until she hit fifteen months. I remember thinking at that time, “what happened to my sweet baby?” after a particularly intense meltdown. As she grew in independence, I grew in insecurity. I thought I knew my baby. I thought I understood her, her needs, her desires, her developing personality.

Apparently I did not know. There was so much I did not know. [There is still so much I do not know.]

Every job I’ve ever held – including cleaning up vomit from behind a toilet during one summer’s hotel housekeeping job and wearing wooden clogs while disappointing people with the truth that I wasn’t actually Swedish during another summer’s waitressing job – I’ve succeeded at. I’ve worked hard, and I’ve done well.

This motherhood gig was different. I was not succeeding, or at least, I could not tell, which was perhaps more terrifying. If my child’s behavior was indicative of my success, I was a total failure. [Still am some days, according to that measure.]

So I worked harder. I read books, I talked to other moms, watched them carefully. What does success look like, I wondered. I despaired shortly after my second was born when a friend told me, “it only gets worse from here. I know you think this is hard, but it gets so much worse.” [Note to self: don’t ever tell a young mom this.]

Before I had kids, I was patient. And kind. I was slow to anger. I was giving. Now, with little ones watching every move, I was irritated. I was exasperated. I was harsh. Most of all, I was deeply selfish.

Motherhood brought out the worst in me.

[My husband would agree, bless him.]

But here’s the thing: I’m so thankful. Motherhood has exposed sinful attitudes I did not realize I was harboring. Motherhood has revealed more weakness than I ever expected of myself.

God may use a variety of life circumstances to break us down, to show us our need for him. He’s been using motherhood in my life for seven years now. Some days it’s truly painful. 

Jesus says of the Father, “every branch in me that does not bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit” [John 15].

Prune this branch, Father! Take away these ugly, dead twigs of anger, selfishness, of impatience, unkindness, so that the abundant fruit of kindness, of love and selfless giving, of hope and faith may increase in this branch.

Often, when sin is blatantly exposed in my life, I easily slip into self-condemnation. I'm not just a struggling mother; I'm the worst mother. My kids deserve better than me. But Jesus would say, “abide in my love.” It is only because of his love, his life and death and resurrection, that I can meaningfully love my kids and pour my life out for theirs. 

The worst will come out again, I’m sure of it. There is still death in me, so long as I live in this broken world. But so long as Jesus is pruning, there is hope. So long as I am abiding, there is love.