Each week of my mission in Guatemala, I ended my letter to the mission president with the same statement. “There is nowhere else I’d rather be.” There were good weeks, bad weeks, exhilarating weeks, exhausting weeks, but I truly meant it each time I wrote it.
When I finished my mission and began my career and single life, I jumped into it with the same zeal I had in Guatemala. Or at least I tried. Although the desire of my heart was to be a wife and mother, I knew there was great purpose in my life, regardless of when/if a family happened.
As the years passed, I was given extraordinary experiences. I fed my adrenaline-junky addiction with things like rock climbing, sky diving, xc skiing, and cycling. I fed my gypsy spirit with travel from the tiniest ghost towns of the west, to the pyramids of Giza, and many places in between. I fed my soul with profound spiritual experiences in temples, in service, in study and in worship. And I fed my heart a steady diet of wonderful friends, mentors and family relationships.
I would not trade a day my mission, or life before I married RJ.
But last week a friend reminded me of how hard that time actually was, and that in the midst of it, I wasn’t satisfied. RJ was out of state, so the girls and I road-tripped to visit Dave and Elisa Martin, who had moved to Idaho last year (thereby breaking the heart of Georgia, as they took Camden and Breck with them). Dave and I were good buddies back in our wild single days and went on many adventures together. Last week he reminded me of something I said after a memorable Christmas Eve we spent backpacking in deep, pristine winter wilderness under sparkling skies. “Yeah… but I’d rather be changing diapers.”
Now, a flood of memories are coming back.
In my annual reviews with my boss/mentor Bill Reynolds, he would ask what my dream job was, and what I was doing to qualify myself for it. Each year I would say “Being a wife and mother… But if not, I am on exactly the professional path that I want.”
When I was experiencing something significant like Tikal Temple IV or the Treasury in Petra Jordan, an orphanage in Mexico, the cherry blossoms in DC, a week in a sailboat, or the tippety top of Twin Peaks, I would be filled with both immense gratitude that I was there, and equal sadness that I was not there with my husband. In every case, I was with amazing people. Yet my heart ached because I felt so alone.
During a chat with the stake presidency I served under, President Smith asked why I was involved with other humanitarian organizations when my job didn’t require it. “I’m making the most of plan B!” My reply sparked a lengthy discussion (and thereafter a speaking assignment) about the importance of finding joy in plan B, while not letting go of plan A.
Although family life was my plan A, I have to admit my interest in it was theoretical – based on my faith that being a mother is my eternal role. I wasn’t feeling the biological pull to procreate. When I babysat, I was thrilled when the parents returned. And frankly, I had minimal knowledge about what parenting or marriage really was. I just knew that was God’s plan. I longed for the companionship of a loving husband, but kids… not really. When RJ and I miraculously came (back) together and married, I wasn’t in a rush to get pregnant. Then something primal changed in my body. My brain re-wired. And all I wanted was babies. BAAAAAYYYBEEEEEEEZZZ!
And now, after all of these years, I’m a MOTHER. Like, a legitimate stretchy pants and messy bun, diaper changing, sandwich making m-o-m.
Now, there are moments where I honestly think my rage is going to spill over in terrifying ways. There are afternoons where my patience is so far gone that I have to literally run and hide to get 2 minutes alone to pray for strength. There are times I would looooooove a fast-forward button.
BUT. Once again I can honestly say “There is nowhere else I’d rather be.”
All of those past my stage of motherhood say how fast it goes by and how I’ll miss it. For myself, I think it’ll be like Guatemala. For every bit that I loved my mission and wouldn’t trade a day of it, I have to say… I don’t want to go back. Because as good and profound as it was, it was also that hard. And the present and the future have equal opportunities for experience and JOY. Every stage has its glories and its terrors. The trick will be, like it has always been, to focus on the magic happening right in front of my eyes, and trust in grace to carry me through the trials.
So for now, I’ll grit through the pregnancy symptoms, the endless task of picking up, the whining (not mine, the kids, silly!), the exhaustion of being so needed, the constant awareness of my failures, and the “MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM!”. And for now, I’ll also hold on to the softness of round cheeks, the feathery tickles of strawberry blond bedhead, the bursts of giggles when daddy comes home, the sweetness of mispronounced words, the dangling toes on an oversized toilet, the opportunity to spend time examining and enjoying tidbits of nature, and the sheer pleasure it is to witness the magic of childhood.
the dispencery 