Unhappy People Don't Want You Happy

Why Being a Mom is So Hard Sometimes: Thoughts to Make Your Life a Little Easier | Gomestic

Why Being a Mom is So Hard Sometimes: Thoughts to Make Your Life a Little Easier | Gomestic

Why Me? Motherhood Wasn't What I Wanted But It Happened

Kneeling beside my bed in my studio apartment in 1997, I began to pray, not because I was in need of anything in particular, but just because I could whenever I wanted. You see, I was single. No man, no children, no roommates, no pets, absolutely no one lived with me that I had to feel obligated to talk or care for and it felt good – too good.

So while I am kneeling beside my bed waiting for God to speak to me, I am suddenly saddened like someone getting ready to hear some of the worst news of his or her life. I didn’t quite know why I felt that way until I heard an audible voice from within my spirit, saying, “You will be a mother some day and you will marry.” This news was not what I wanted to hear. I was looking forward to hearing something else such as God telling me to attend a Bible college or do some missionary work, anything but this! I cried my first cry about being a mother. These were real tears, gut wrenching! I became angry all the while as I cried asking God, “Why?”

I couldn’t help but think about all of the women who wanted children in the world and hear I was being called to motherhood and marriage. I had just got out of an abusive relationship, so the last thing I wanted in my life was something else to test my patience and nerves. For the first time in my life I was sincerely happy and at peace in my eclectic looking apartment cheaply decorated with abstract art on poster board along the walls, decorated plastic containers and crates turned on their side to simulate bookcases.

Then again maybe I wasn’t really happy as I wanted everyone around me to believe during that time in my life. Loneliness had been my kryptonite back in the 90s. Like superman, this superwoman fell weak to my imagination of one caressing and kissing me and longed for my dreams to become real—a debonair gentleman to come into my life and sweep me off my feet and out of my boring routines. Yet, at the same time, I wanted to stay in my apartment and never interact with anyone unless I absolutely needed to, simply because my heart still ached over my past riddled with verbal and physical assaults from men who claimed they loved me.

What was so bad about my being called to motherhood and marriage? I really don’t know. I can’t seem to pinpoint exactly what had occurred when I was a child that caused me to disdain the possibility of me one day being a parent. I remember thinking back to those childhood days when I found marriage to be troublesome. I saw people around me looking at their mates as if they were sickened and/or aggravated by them. I saw the frustration in parents’ eyes when their children did just one more thing to make them yell, scream, cuss or whip them. Parenting was definitely not something I saw in my future. I remember my mother saying, “What if one day you meet a man and fall in love with him, you may want to have children.” I was still adamant in my beliefs when I responded to her, “I still don’t want any children and I don’t want to be with the same person for the rest of my life that is boring!” I remember her being hopeful about my future when she commented, “You are still young, you may change your mind when you are older.” I had hoped that I wouldn’t.

As I pondered the news God gave me about motherhood and marriage, I remembered a radio interview on a Christian station. When the interviewer asked the guest about the various callings God had made on his life, he commented that he may not have liked everything God put on his plate, but he ate anyway. I thought about my own calling. Although this idea of being a mother wasn’t what I had in mind, I could accept it; however, the challenge I had was to try an convince the little child within me that it was okay that our Father in heaven knows what’s best for us. As I began to think more about motherhood, I realized I really hadn’t come to terms with being a mother even when I learned almost two years later that I was pregnant and I felt guilty that I wasn’t married first even though God was already aware of the order of events. I had often wished during the pregnancy that God would take the baby from me, and could I get “a do over” roll for my life?

I didn’t like the thought of how the baby would impact my future, those around me and how the baby changed me mentally or physically. What exactly did I have planned for my future in 1997 anyway? I really didn’t know. I had been educated at very good universities and had a resume two pages long! I allowed myself for the first time in my life to awake each day with no focus other than to work at my data entry job, pray to God, eat, read, shower, go to sleep and awake the next day to do it all over again each and every day until God told me different. Up until that point in 1997, I had never had a dull moment in my life! For me to behave that way back then was almost insane to those who knew me. I was never one for not having a plan for my present and my future. I never had an opening in my schedule that was ever left for God, casual reading or just sitting down and relaxing. I sometimes wonder had I allowed myself to keep busy would I have ever entertained a single thought of desiring the touch of a man.

The opportunity to abort my baby had been given to me by a nurse, who said it was a requirement to ask, but I didn’t have the mindset to think twice about it since being influenced by talk shows that provided details of the procedure and biblical teachings discouraged me. I asked God, I told God and sometimes I swore at God about allowing this to happen to such a sinner. I almost pleaded, “This isn’t what I wanted…” To that, he said nothing.

I was angry with God because I was mere flesh who hadn’t been strong enough to turn sex away. My happiness about being alone had wore off quickly. I became like so many single, lonely women desiring a companion that would make me feel complete. The chance I took that night to allow my lover to enter me unprotected could have resulted in much more than a baby. Exactly how many times we slept together unprotected, before I became pregnant I don’t remember, all I recall was we hadn’t known each other that long before the “surprise” came. I remember wondering why my belly continued to grow despite my participation in professional physical fitness training and watching my diet.

I don’t know if God told me this or if I reasoned it, but I started to believe that God gave me, the gift of motherhood, because he planned to use the children in the future, not only for his glory, but to create a new and improved me. In the past, I noticed as young as fifteen that having children made some young women act mature beyond their years. They seemed to have a more settled demeanor about them and they viewed the world a lot differently after having babies. Pregnancy seemed to mold and shape them into women that had more compassion for others, became less selfish, and provided an insight about life they would have otherwise never had.

Why wasn't the information and counseling readily available for women when they didn't want to abort, but didn't want to keep the child either after giving birth? Where are the support groups for mothers-to be who don’t want to be mothers, but are too afraid to tell anyone they don’t want their child and rather put him or her up for adoption? Who holds pregnant women’s hands when they have second thoughts about being mothers? Although I struggled with the idea of being a mother throughout my pregnancy and often wished that God would take his blessing back, nothing prepared me for the day I saw my baby’s eyes. With tears in my eyes and when no one was looking, I quickly asked God, in a quiet whisper, for forgiveness. “Please forgive me Lord I didn’t know what I was thinking or saying. Thank you for giving my child life.” The baby looked at me as if God used his eyes to reply, “You are forgiven.”

Three children later (a grand total of four) I have never asked God to take any of them like I did with the first, but I have requested that he bless me with the wisdom and the strength to stand before the obstacles set before me. I have repeatedly commanded that God send his angels down to help me quiet a crying child. I have also prayed to God far too many times to count to give me peace of mind. For there are times that I felt as if my head would come off and I would lose my legs to stand, because of the stress of raising children. Sometimes my own cries drowned out my children’s moans, sighs, whines and screams. When I am feeling at my worse, I go to some faraway place in my mind where I can’t hear them and for that moment I feel okay. I get off my knees or out of the chair I am sitting in when this happens and proceed to wash the dirty dishes, clean the crumbs off the floor, make a bed, sort some laundry, go out for a walk (when daddy is home) or get on the phone. For I know that if I allow my mind to stay in that far away place that drowns out the sounds of children too long, they may hurt themselves, but if I come out of that far away place too soon and don’t allow myself enough time to cry a good cry, then I may be the next woman on the news.

A mother-to-be goes through so many mental and physical changes. It doesn’t give her any encouragement about her calling when there are so many miserable mothers around her trying to advise her on childbirth and childrearing. They are telling her things like, “I didn’t want to see my baby’s face after all she put me through…I was ready to hurt my child about…His dad was no help to me…The baby didn’t allow me to get any sleep, I was ready to throw him out the window…” The new mother is definitely not ready for what is ahead when she can’t see the bright light at the end of the tunnel and the women around her don’t bother to be a beacon of light for her. In her mind all she hears herself saying is, “I am not ready for this!”

One day while walking my children, I had a conversation with a neighbor about children. She said she never wanted any. I couldn’t help but think why was it that she got her wish and I hadn’t. She reasoned that God didn’t allow it to happen to her, because he knew in her heart that she truly didn’t want any. She said she loved her nieces and nephews and were grateful for them. I had wanted the same, no children, at least so I thought, but maybe God knew my heart better than I knew it and gave them to me anyway.

Another day, I had been walking my children again and saw two pregnant women walking side by side. I couldn’t help but speak to them while they smiled and waved to both of my sons riding in a double stroller. They asked if I had twins, I said, “No, they are fifteen months apart.” They commented on how cute they were. As we exchanged small talk, I remember saying something to encourage them, although I have since forgotten what I said, I do recall how they reacted, they smiled.

I guess my only request for mothers who are around expectant mothers is to be lighthouses for them. Direct them toward the light that will give them the strength to keep going even when they are experiencing dark waters, raging storms, and heavy winds in their lives.

Written by Nicholl McGuire

Before She Became a Mother She was a Woman

Before she was a mother she was a single, working woman. She enjoyed her carefree life. She went to work, came home, made herself something to eat, chatted on the phone with friends, and went out wherever she wanted at whatever hour. When people asked her if she would marry and have children one day, she may have said yes to marriage, but no to children. The mere thought took her to a time when she cried far too often as a child wishing nothing more than to escape her dysfunctional family. She just didn't want to be bothered comforting a child that may or may not grow up with the same worries and fears that she had, it was a gamble that she never wanted to take.

But then along came a man whom she fell in love and unexpectedly she became pregnant. It was then that she said goodbye to everything that she had ever known. Now she is embarking into a new journey, all the while persuading herself to accept motherhood despite her bitter feelings about it. "A mother says this, a mother does that," she tells herself. Then she looks to other women, books, TV, and radio for every answer that mother's intuition doesn't give her.

This realization of having to crucify the old her and become the new her was the start of her crisis. There are those women who suffer with midlife and menopausal crisis, but there are others like the new mother in this story who go from being a single, career-oriented, independent super woman of sorts to becoming a single mother vulnerable, lonely, and confused. A young woman who thought of children as nothing more than "cute", now has to face the reality that spreadsheets, books, meetings, dating, and entertaining will have to be replaced with parenting books, doctors' appointments, diapers, baby bottles, bibs, and much, much more!

Her family that she had no time for when she was busy studying for exams, winning accolades, and hanging out with friends, is now an all too important support system. Without her family, friends, co-workers, church, government and strangers, she thinks, she could be like some of the women she read about or watched on television talk shows that became so emotionally and physically drained with the responsibility of caring for their children that one day they just snapped!

The mother who loses her job because of her pregnancy, the family who doesn't like her choice in a man, the abusive partner who didn't want a baby, religious leaders who will not accept childbearing outside of wedlock and so many other issues have sent many mothers to the mental institution or to their graves with broken hearts and tears.

As her baby becomes bigger in her womb, she reflects on those simpler days when it was just "Me, Myself and I" like a chocolate craving, she yearns for the life she use to have. Her friends tell her, "Get over it." She goes into hiding, "they are no comfort," she tells herself. So she doesn't bother answering the phone anymore, they no longer have too much in common with her these days anyway.

The crying child, the unsupportive partner, the negative attitude of relatives, and the distance of friends have all contributed to her motherhood crisis. Other mothers like her never planned on having children either, but had them anyway knowing that they had yet to get over those very serious feelings of resentment, something that a mother who has accepted her role will never understand that is why she says things to unhappy mothers that cause more harm than good, "You should be happy. Children are from God. Just think of all the women who can't have children..." While these mothers act as if they don't have a clue as to why the new mother feels depressed about how drastic her life has changed, some of these well-meaning mothers forgot or failed to mention how they struggled when they too first heard the news about their own unplanned pregnancies, they put on fake smiles too, all the while thinking, "I don't want this."

Unlike her sisters who could bravely undergo an operation to rid themselves of something they couldn't handle, the new mother on the other hand, had her child and wished she hadn't. Although she doesn't look like the type, whatever "the type" maybe she doesn't want children, she quite honestly doesn't want hers so she is weighing all her options. But she can't tell anyone, because no one would understand. She is a mother crying on the inside every day, because she didn't want children. She doesn't feel the honor of being a mother, the love of a mother, the insight of a mother, the compassion of a mother, she feels nothing but numb. She almost feels like she has been raped by a God who made her a mother even though she prayed, "Please don't!"

People around her mistake her eyes of tears for eyes of joy. What does she feel joyful about when it's hard for her to see the goodness of motherhood? The same God she feels has raped her will have to be the same God who will have to open her eyes to the joys of parenting. Many mothers are pained inside that they even feel this way, but it's hard when all they can see is another mouth to feed, another invite they have to pass up, another job offer they have to turn down because of childcare hours, another man who doesn't want to date her because she has a child, another memory of a past she would rather forget, and so many "anothers" too long to mention here.

What can you say or do for a new mother whose mind is in this state without being critical or bragging about how great you feel about being a mother? She isn't you or maybe you are her and have only been deceiving yourself for years. "I love children, but they can't touch my things, play on my furniture,or bother me," some women say. "I love children, but don't expect me to watch my grandchildren," some grandparents say. "I love children, but I can't wait until they get older so they can move out of my house!" many mothers say. Get my point?

Now that the new mother has given birth to her baby, she feels somewhat at ease, but still subconsciously she is hoping to have a speedy recovery and get back to work. Her child makes her disgruntled mother open her eyes more and more to the world around her, she starts to see other mothers like her, still disappointed with the choices they made in life including letting their unborn children live. She questions those spankings mothers give their children, "Could it be that they really aren't disciplining them, but hating them for their very existence?" What about those curse words they bestow upon their children, "Could it be that the child reminds her of a poor choice she made years ago while dating?" What about those evil stares she gives her child when she thinks no one is looking? "Could it be the child represents her lost freedom?"

While I, you or anyone who knows a mother similar to the one in this article grappling with her role, avoid the temptation to pass judgment, some of us could be considered delusional look at the way some mothers talk the talk of loving their children, but aren't walking the walk. Maybe this disappointed mother is representative of our truth and we are just too scared, busy, worried, or ignorant to bother with it? I would have said too content to worry over it as well, but it wouldn't make sense since this article is not written for content mothers.

Maybe our depressed sister in motherhood is more in touch with herself than we think and all she needs is someone to show her where she can find her peace of mind.

(This is an excerpt from a new book on motherhood coming out in 2009 on Amazon entitled, "When Mothers Cry" by Nicholl McGuire. You can reserve your copy simply by sending an email request to the writer of this article.)