I Didn't Want To Be A Mother

A lot has changed over the past few years. (Understatement of the century, I know). I’m not going to enumerate the changes, as we are all fully aware of what they are, and frankly, I’m weary of giving them my attention. However, the era I affectionately refer to as A.C. (After Covid) that shook and scrambled our lives, was precipitated in my life by yet another drastic season of change that I, also affectionately, refer to as A.B. (After Baby).

My husband and I will be celebrating our 11th wedding anniversary this December. For the first seven years of our marriage, I didn’t want kids. I can vividly recall a few occasions when I thought I might be pregnant, and I tearfully expressed to Ben, “What if I’m pregnant? I can’t be pregnant. It’s an impossibility!” And then I’d find out I wasn’t, and I’d jump for joy like I’d just won an Olympic gold medal.

But then, in the spring of 2018, God changed my heart. I know it was God, because my husband (who wanted to have kids more than anything) and I had been praying that God would place us on the same page. And because only God can work that kind of heart-changing miracle! I got a positive pregnancy test a month later and jumped for joy like I’d just, I don’t know, learned I was going to bring a God-given, God-designed life into the world! It felt like a million Christmas mornings, a million Olympic wins, a million moon landings rolled into one.

The 40 weeks of my pregnancy were some of the most productive of my entire life. I wrote nearly every day, for hours on end, finishing my first novella (my next release), and three novels, each one over 300 pages long (including Where the Light Breaks). I read tons of books on the topic of childbirth (I’ll list my favorites below), as well as plenty of novels while our new puppy Zelda napped on the sofa beside me, her silky-soft head in my lap. I worked out and walked Zelda every day, including the day I went into labor.

That was the final day of the Before Baby Era. It’s a day I thank God for, despite the hardships, frustrations, fears, guilt, sorrow, and disappointment it ushered into my life, because without them, I wouldn’t have the strength I have today, nor the empathy for others who have walked in my shoes, nor the faith that’s been proven time and time again, nor the peace that arises only with having seen the mighty hand of God intercede supernaturally on your behalf, nor the perspective I now have of what truly matters.

What matters most is not my work as a writer. It’s not the fictitious adventures I go on or the knowledge I accumulate via the wonderful books I read. It’s not how strong or fit I get in the gym, nor how healthy I am from the food I eat, supplements I take, and toxins I avoid, etc. It’s not in anything I could possibly do with my skills, smarts, or abilities, but all to do with the people God has given me to pour into and serve by His power and love in me. Heaven knows that without Him, I would be as selfish and reclusive as they come, choosing my books and dogs, coffee and crossword puzzles over time with people, not least of all egotistical children!

Since becoming a mother, I’ve written zero books. Not because I haven’t had the time or mental bandwidth, either (thanks go some incredible caregivers we’ve been blessed by!), but because I’ve been busy editing and publishing the books I produced while I was pregnant (I’m convinced pregnancy hormones make one more creative!). Of course, everything takes me significantly longer to do, and when it’s time to write something new, I’m sure it’ll take me a year or more to finish a full-length novel, not three months! But that’s okay. It’s okay because my priorities have shifted since the A.B. era began. It’s okay because, unlike my former, childless, much more selfish self, my sense of contentment doesn’t hinge on how many writing-related tasks I complete in a given day. I sleep soundly at night because my life, along with all its blessings and broken pieces, are in His good, good hands, and there’s nothing I can do to change that, unless I foolishly turn away from Him. Which I never, ever plan to do!

Looking back, I see plainly that my antagonism toward the idea of having children stemmed from two places: fear of not believing I had what it takes to be a fit mother, and, above that, pure selfishness and resistance to change, albeit one of the most sanctifying sorts of change one can imagine.

Is there anything in your life you’ve felt yourself resisting? Any undertaking or commitment or risky endeavor that causes your defenses to go up and excuses to rally the second it flashes through your mind?

Whatever it is, I encourage you, first and foremost, not to fear it, nor your ability, by God’s grace, to take it on with excellence. Remember that, in many cases, fear is the opposite of faith, and serves as an adversarial arrow meant to derail you from God’s guideposts. Second, I challenge you to ask yourself what the root of your aversion is. And last, but not least, I implore you to bring the issue before God in prayer, and humbly, openly, ask Him to align your will with His, and, if necessary, break off the stubbornness that has bound itself to your spirit. Do these things, and I have no doubt that you, like me, will undergo a metamorphosis that will continually amaze and strengthen you as you let go of Self and lean into the Shepherd.

"Our greatest fear should not be of failure, but of succeeding at things in life that don’t really matter." - Francis Chan

"We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations." - Chuck Swindoll

Ben TylerJune 13, 2022Comment

I Didn't Want To Be A Mother

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