Tonight as I was getting Coen ready for bed I realized that a year ago I was pregnant...and had no idea. Little Coen was in my tummy and I was completely oblivious. Yet God already knew him inside and out. He already knew the number of days and the number of breaths my sweet boy will take. He knew Coen's personality. He knew my little one inside and out completely, and I didn't even know that he existed. I serve a big God with big plans, and I can't wait for what's to come.

Honest

I’ve been thinking about social media the past couple of months and how it is often criticized for not giving an honest picture of our lives. We get to choose how our lives are portrayed and what people see. We all have those people on our newsfeed that are seem to have the perfect lives. All of their posts are about their adventures, their thoughtful significant others, their perfect jobs. And often they’re the ones posting the nauseating quotes splayed over nature photos (usually only nauseating because the perfect person posted it). And then you have the people whose timeline only has all their drama and every bad thing that ever happened to them whether it's being stuck in the traffic jam in LA to Starbucks getting their order wrong. All they do is complain. I didn’t want to be a complainer. I wanted to see my life in a positive light. So I tried to post positive statuses.  I didn’t want to air dirty laundry on the internet. I didn’t want to portray people unfairly. But I wasn’t trying to pretend my life was perfect either. In fact, I feel like most of my blog the past 4 months has been a lot of complaining.

In my MOPS group, we’re talking about honesty. How honesty is needed in relationships to really go deep. How honesty, even when it’s hard, is what makes our friendships real. 

I’m wanting to be honest. Honestly is a tricky thing. I feel that sometimes I can’t be honest because it doesn’t feel fair. Feelings are real and should be validated. But it doesn’t make the feeling right. It’s okay to feel a certain way even if it isn’t right. 

For example, some nights I feel like I do everything around the house. I took care of the baby all day. I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher. I did three loads of laundry. I made the bed. I made dinner. My honest feeling is one of despair and loneliness. It’s a feeling of being the one to do everything and not having any help. 

But it isn’t correct. Because didn’t Doug watch Coen so that I could go running? Didn’t Doug get up at 6:30 in the morning to put Coen back to sleep? Wasn’t he the last one to vacuum the entire house? Didn’t he make the bed yesterday? Didn’t he spend all day at work to provide the mortgage payment and money for groceries? Isn’t he working hard and taking on extra projects so that you can stay at home like you’ve always wanted?

So sometimes I feel like I can’t be honest, because it isn’t fair. 

A lot of the moms seem to have trouble asking for what they need. There’s this perception that we have as moms to be seen as superwoman. We can be up past midnight and up before six, clean up spit up off the carpet, the baby, and ourselves, work out, clean the house, and still show up to a play date with perfectly curled hair and make up. Piece of cake. I was talking to one mom and I mentioned how hard motherhood is and she said, “Yeah, we don’t like mentioning that part to new moms cause we don’t want to scare them.” What the heck? I mean, I knew that it would be hard. But I was naive as to how hard. But maybe you can’t describe it. And you can’t prepare for it. I don’t want to sit down my currently pregnant friends and gush about how hard and wrenching the next stage of their life is going to be. But shouldn’t we be honest with these women? Be honest and then be there to help them through it. Maybe I wouldn’t have been hit so hard if I could have at least tried to mentally prepare myself for motherhood. (I’m trying to decide if I have postpartum depression or normal ups and downs of a changing lifestyle).

Because I hate how I feel some days. I’ll wonder why I ever wanted to be a mom. Why would I trade in my old life for this? When will the joy of being a parent appear? And then I feel so guilty for feeling that way. That I’m wrong for feeling that way. What mother doesn’t want her child? 

I feel like I have to be strong because no one else will be. How much help is okay to ask for? As much as I’m needing? I don’t even know what that point is. Where does the line between how much I’m needing and how much I’m wanting end? Because some days how much help I’m wanting would be to leave in the morning and come back after Coen has gone to sleep at night (but oh how much I would miss him!). 

So I have some things to think about. Honesty needs to start with myself. I need to be honest with how much I can handle (it may be more than I think), what I’m needing, and to be honest about the reality of a situation. Is honesty determined by our feelings and perceptions or about what actually is?

I wanted to be a positive person, but did I lose my honesty in pursuing that?