As far back as I can remember, I wanted to be a mom. I loved kids, everything about them, especially babies, and they seemed to love me, too. I laugh sometimes at my naive self. The pictures of cuddling, laughing, playing, and just picture-perfect perfection were so innocent and clueless. But what did I know? I had two younger sisters, I babysat a lot, and I spent my summers working in a daycare center. I went to college and majored in music education, and when I graduated, I taught middle school. I loved every minute but wanted kids of my own and a partner to raise them with. I met Chris at college doing drama stuff. We had friends in common and quickly became good friends. We started dating, and soon after I graduated college in 2002, we got engaged on Christmas Eve. Fairytale, right?
We married in July 2004 and bought our starter home in March 2005. We were both working and optimistic about our future. Our oldest, Molly, was born six weeks early in November 2005. That fantasy of motherhood came crashing down all around me. She fit in the palm of my hand. I was sick and struggling to recover. I’ll never forget her first night home. She wouldn’t sleep and would cry anytime she wasn’t in our arms. We both foolishly stayed awake all night with her. Instead of taking turns, we tried to support each other but couldn’t see beyond those minutes. Breastfeeding was so much more complicated for me than it looked in the movies, and I felt like every time she finished, she was starting again. It was exhausting. I thank God that my mom called me to check in, heard my voice, and said, “Do you want me to come stay for a few days?”. I immediately asked her if she would just consider moving in with us! She laughed, came over for a few days, and helped us get into a routine. It may not seem like much, but it was the reassurance I needed to know I could be a mom. No matter what obstacles or difficulties were thrown our way, I could do it, but I had to rely on my support system, especially my spouse, and now that I look back on those days, I realize I was relying heavily on prayer.
Molly would continue to test us. She endured around 25 ear infections, had prolonged seizures starting at one year old, and needed multiple ER trips, hospital stays, early interventions, and operations. Molly has received so many diagnoses throughout the years, including Autism Spectrum Disorder. All of this is to paint a picture that challenges were always there, but we couldn’t just close our eyes and quit because it wasn’t the fantasy we had dreamed of. Despite all our early experiences, the desire to add to our family was strong. When Molly was not quite two, I thought we were pregnant again, but it ended up being a very short pregnancy that wasn’t viable. It took us almost a year from that time until it was clear we would have another child. Kennedy graced us in December 2008, and she brought with her her very own set of complexities. At 2.5, she was barely talking and was constantly in sensory overload. She even tested borderline on the Autism Spectrum, which she quickly proved wrong when she entered school. She has always been our stubborn, imaginative, creative, independent, thoughtful middle child. Sometimes, she fulfills the stereotypes as she innately feels the need to compete for our attention.
We were good, but in August of 2011, I had one of the most vivid dreams I had ever experienced. I was at the beach with the girls and my family. The girls were getting along so well, and everything felt manageable for the first time in a long time. Then, this dream. God was talking to me, telling me we needed one more child. She would be born to us and do beautiful things in the world. Zoey joined our family in May of 2012, and she proceeded to scream for nine-months solid. I looked at the sky more than once and said, please help me! But the child and now tweenager that has developed from that irate infant is one of the most genuine and kind souls I have ever met. Yes, she is still a tween-ager, but the depth of understanding in her soul takes my breath away.
And here we are. I’m just a mom. Chris is just a dad. But we know it’s so much more. We created these three unique human beings to live in and change our world. Every day, we must balance keeping them safe, nurturing their minds, body, and spirit, loving them, and creating firm boundaries. No day is the same. Not only are we their parents, but we are also children to our parents; we are an aunt and uncle to 4 wonderful kids and siblings to our sisters. We are friends and coworkers, confidants, and volunteers. We struggle with our health issues and our difficulties. We’re human beings, just as our children are. I wish Amanda 18 years ago had the openness of faith that I have been experiencing and learning over the past four years. I wonder if I would have handled things differently or if I would actually remember more details from when they were younger.
The thing is, we must look forward. We can reflect, but dwelling and ruminating on the past does not help us grow deeper in our faith journey. Our girls come with us every week to church. We don’t force them. We simply ask them to join us for that time of the week. Yet, they will tell you we make them come. It’s like any night there isn’t a rehearsal or a performance; we ask them to join us for dinner and then be in the family room in one space until they go to their rooms at 8 pm. We don’t find that demanding that they do things has ever worked with our girls; they tend to shut down and cry if negativity or demands are placed on them. So, we ask them to join us at The Table every Sunday, and they don’t fight us. One reward of this relationship and worship experience is when they bring sermon nuggets home or ask about another parishioner they may not have seen. Their faces may appear somewhat blank during service unless I’m getting their attention to move the cameras, but they are listening to everything and absorbing how vital God, prayer, and faith are to our lives and those around us.
I know this isn’t true for everyone, that many kids refuse to go to church, but don’t give up asking your kids or your grandkids to join you—you never know, they may surprise you!
Do you have a life story? Can you share it with others? We would love to hear it in the comments or by email info@the-table.church.
God Bless,
Amanda
Thank you Amanda!
Amanda, your willingness to share your vulnerabilities so that others may find courage and hope is so appreciated. THANK YOU!