Peace in the present
For the past few years, I’ve made it a habit to choose a “word of the year” to motivate my personal growth in the months ahead. This year, my word came without any hesitation - peace.
I became a mom at the start of 2021, and motherhood has brought me more joy and has filled me with more love than I ever thought possible. Getting to be Tyler’s wife and Hudson’s mom - through the moments of chaos & quiet, I’ve never felt more sure I’m living my purpose. This year, I’m grateful for the opportunity to have quit my (part-time) finance position to fully embrace motherhood and homemaking.
It’s been exciting, challenging, joyful, & tiresome, and I could not be more grateful for this beautiful life I get to wake up to every day. My dreams have come true, and yet somehow - amongst my highest highs, I’ve been silently weighed down by dark clouds of fear and uncertainty.
To start from the beginning, our sweet Hudson was born premature at 34 weeks and a few days. My water broke unexpectedly as I was walking down the hall of our home. When Hudson was born the next afternoon, I held him against my chest for a small moment before he was quickly rushed away to the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit). I couldn’t see him again until near midnight (10 hours later), once I was physically cleared to be wheeled over to him.
Each time my husband or I entered NICU, we were told to remove any outerwear and wash all the way up to our elbows for 60 seconds before entering the room. The environment was unsettling - machines beeped repeatedly as I stared at my tiny, helpless baby through a glass shell. Holding Hudson in my arms and quietly breathing him in felt like everything I ever wanted. Everything around us faded to normal.
The next couple of weeks were an emotional rollercoaster. Because of COVID protocol, Tyler & I weren’t able to stay overnight in the hospital and only one of us were allowed to see Hudson at a time. I blinked through tear-filled eyes on the drive home and then couldn’t wipe a smile off my face the next morning as I eagerly walked back across the parking lot carrying my freshly pumped packs of milk.
At home, I woke up in a panic in the middle of the night - what if an earthquake hit the hospital? What magnitude is the building built to withstand? My 2am alarm went off and, as I pumped in the living room, I sobbed and held on to Hudson’s unwashed onesie. My heart wasn’t broken, it was somewhere else completely.
We were beyond grateful the day we were able to bring Hudson home and finally be together as a family. Nothing had ever felt more perfect. Going forward, I wouldn’t take a single day for granted. I didn’t know then that the trauma of what we had faced would plant seeds of fear in me that would one day pull me away from the very people I so desperately wanted to protect.
When Hudson was 4 months old, I fought what doctors thought was an aggressive UTI for months before it escalated to a kidney infection. My fever was hovering between 102-104 for several days before it spiked at 106 degrees. The antibiotics and fever reducers weren’t working. I collapsed on our wooden floor boards and sleepily felt their coolness against my cheek.
Tyler rushed me to emergency where they hooked me up to fluids and did their best to flush the infection. I heard the nurses quietly discuss that I was on sepsis watch, and I started to panic as it set in that I was once again separated from my baby. It wasn’t until about a week later that a CT scan would reveal that my left kidney was swollen - a kidney stone had completely blocked my left ureter and was at risk of rupture.
I immediately went back in for an emergency surgery to remove the stone and insert a temporary stent. It was my first time “going under” and I was terrified. What if I didn’t wake up? I stepped out of the car, opened Hudson’s back door and just stared at him. I soaked him in and kissed him with as much love as I could possibly give in that quick moment.
I would go under again for surgery nearly 6 months later to remove the stent and shatter any remaining kidney stones. It took a few months for me to forget about the surgeries. I no longer felt the mild pain of the stent when I shifted my body. I finally began to feel things return to normal, but in a few months we would start a complete remodel of our primary bathroom and kitchen.
As silly as it may seem (after struggling through more serious health matters), I battled months of anxiety while the construction crew remodeled our home. Hudson was crawling at that point, and everything he touched would go in his mouth, so I took it upon myself to ensure that no construction materials would come in contact with him. Each day after the crew left, I would vacuum and mop the entire living area, and anywhere they had stepped.
I eventually began to notice that my mental health was suffering. I was so worried - all the time. And what began as somewhat reasonable concerns quickly became absurd and imprisoning. I rewashed the load of clothes because I couldn’t remember if I washed my hands before folding the laundry. I opened a bag of cheese and worried that plastic shreds found their way into our food. My fear took over.
Fear had turned into anxiety had turned into OCD, and I felt completely trapped in my own mind. The very people I was trying to protect were distanced by my own layers of worry and meaningless (compulsive) actions. I felt hopeless, shameful, and worst of all, still afraid.
I started to open up to Tyler a little bit more about the deep levels of fear and anxiousness I was feeling, and I’m so thankful for the patient and loving man he is. Tyler has loved me through the chaos in ways I never expected. He listens to me (genuinely listens to my illogical, obsessive reasoning), prays for me, and he helped me take the intimidating & important step to get help from a Christian therapist.
My therapist was wonderful. She suggested I read a book called “Jesus and OCD” and it completely changed my way of thinking. It helped open my eyes to the physical nature of OCD, and it contained biblical and practical methods to work through my fears, and replace illogical thinking with God’s truth. Most importantly, my therapist continued to point me to Jesus, and reminded me of His perfect love - He doesn’t look at me with shame, but rather patiently and gently corrects me and draws me closer to Him.
I’ve never thirsted for God more than I have every single day of my motherhood journey. I think when we love someone so deeply, our pride and all the silly little things get stripped away and we realize how much we need the Lord in order to love our family the best way we can. I’m so thankful for my sensitive, kind husband and bright baby boy, so full of life. I pray every day that He’ll give me the strength to be the mama and wife they deserve.
In this season, God is teaching me how to be thankful for what I have without fearing loss. He’s showing me to replace my fearful thoughts with His promises. That He is good, He is loving and He works all things for the good of those who love Him. I’m learning to turn my focus to eternity rather than the temporary things of this world, and to submit everything to God in prayer rather than carry all the weight myself.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” - Philippians 4:6-7
It can be scary to sit in moments of waiting and uncertainty. To fear something may be taken away from us. But I’ve found the key to peace in this present moment - and it’s all Jesus. He loves us and our loved ones more than we can fully understand, and I will continue to submit my fears and dreams to our faithful Father in heaven.
“You will keep him in perfect peace, Whose mind is stayed on You, Because he trusts in You.” - Isaiah 26:3
This post is a little heavier than usual, but I wanted to share my struggles for anyone out there who might be going through something similar. You are not alone & you are not unworthy. God is here for you just as He’s been here for me, and He will help us through these trying times. Let’s submit our worries to the Lord today and live in His peace, His power, and His joy!
I know I don’t want to miss out on one more moment of this beautiful life with my precious family.
til next time,
Becks