I just wanted that to be perfectly clear. I love my son. That said, there are days when I really wonder if I made the right decision, becoming a mother. Days when one-year-old tantrums are more than I can deal with. Days when I just want to shout "go to sleep - you KNOW you're tired!" Days (like today) when I look toward the week ahead and just want to cry thinking of all the hours that I'll have to be the mom without daddy around to help. And most particularly, days when I remember everything that I gave up when Jonathan came along, and I miss it, and I grieve for the loss.
I was a good choral director. I loved making music. I loved my students. I loved the adrenaline and the excitement of concert days. I loved feeling successful. I loved shaping and molding the music - a living thing that responded to my hands and voice and heart. And I never meant to give it up. I meant to have a baby AND a (part-time) career. I meant to live in both worlds - so many people do! And I am so incredibly angry that God didn't clue me in to his plan until the baby was made and it was too late to go back.
Did He know I'd back out? Did He know that if he told me the plan, I wouldn't do it? I don't even know what my choice would have been, had I known. I just know that I feel tricked, and I feel that even while I've gained something precious, I've also lost something precious. It is a hard, hard, hard trade.
I feel like a jerk even thinking this. After all, this is my son. A living, breathing human being whom God has entrusted to me. And I'm grateful for him, truly I am. I'm just angry and sad all at the same time. I keep waiting for it to get better; for music to stop hurting me; for the ache to go away. Only it doesn't go. It hides for awhile, that's all.