New Year, New Me?

As I simultaneously enter the new year and the third trimester of this pregnancy, I have been feeling this enormous sense of urgency. Urgency to do all the things I love before a new postpartum season where I am flung yet again into the unknown. Hadn’t it taken me almost a year to feel like myself again after becoming a mother? What if my writing changes again? What if I don’t recognize myself?

I’ll admit that I spent a great part of 2023 feeling a bit lost. Not on a day-to-day basis. Nor was I wondering what is my purpose in life or doubting my future. But I felt lost. Like the part of me that makes me me was hiding and I couldn’t find her.

In so many ways I am thriving. I have been writing this blog weekly for months now, have been submitting and writing poetry regularly, am learning to keep my house tidy. New recipes are finding their way into my repertoire, and I even have improved my efficiency in the kitchen. Perhaps that is part of my feeling lost. As I settle in to a routine and rhythm based on these new, long-term roles I have (wife, mother), I am rediscovering myself. I am not longing for the next stage of life like I was when I was single and paying off student loans. I am living my dream.

But something about changing identities so many times in so little time has given me a bit of whiplash. I went from single to dating to married to being a MOM all within a… 15 month time span (if we are counting my son’s time in-utero as motherhood, which of course I do)? And less than a year after my firstborn arrived, I became pregnant with our second, and time is showing no indications of slowing down.

Part of “living my dream” means realizing that there is an entire person who’d been partially buried underneath my desires. I spent a majority of my twenties in a space of longing. Longing for love, for family, for purpose. Longing for God to fulfill the desires He gave me by giving me a husband and children. He did, and I am so grateful. Now the longing is replaced by the sanctifying work of being a wife and mother. Now the things I wanted for my life are mine, and the only thing left is to make the most of it. Perhaps that is an oversimplification.

But suddenly, my passions for music and writing and baking are no longer distractions from what I don’t have. I am finding ways of integrating them into my “new life” (as I think of it), and as I do so, there is a bit of grief for the person that I was when my love for them began. My poetry is less lovesick. I am less prone to daydreamy meditations on life, nature, and art. My spiritual walk with God is emptied of those arduous prayer sessions where I begged to be in the next season of life, where I begged for Him to help me be content where I was. Now I am praying daily for the strength and grace to steward wisely the gifts He has given me. The longing now is a daily ache for God, and a more earthly ache to have His help along the way.

In all this newness, I am relearning what I’ve learned before, and learning more than I ever have. I am still finding out who I am, who I am in this role God has given me. I’m figuring out what it means to be trusted with the care of two precious souls. I am wondering how I’ll juggle all the rest of life. This year, as I continue to write this newsletter, I’m sure I’ll still be figuring it all out. But I’m looking forward to having you with me.


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