Could this be PMS? Possibly. Could it have been circumstantial? Maybe. Could I have been tired? Perhaps. Have I neglected spending time with God lately? Conceivably. Are any of these excuses my point? Nope.

I have this feeling more times than I want to admit – mothering does not come naturally to me. I almost feel as if I should confess this to God and ask for forgiveness. And sometimes I do. Because I feel guilty. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like something I should be feeling (especially as an author of a book on encouraging weary mothers!). But I do feel this way. This ache. This ‘I-have-so-many-things-I-want-to-do-with-my-life (-but-I-can’t-quite-yet-because-I’m-a-mother)’ feeling that haunts me at times.

And I felt for so long that I couldn’t even utter these words out loud. What kind of woman and mother would I be if I didn’t always particularly even like being a mother? Well, I figured – since there’s nothing new under the sun, that also goes for my feelings. Chances are I am not the first woman in the world to feel this way – to feel this at-times detachment, this intangible longing, this indescribable discontentment. At least, I hope I’m not.

What kind of woman and mother would I be if I didn’t always particularly even like being a mother?

I have this theory. There are three kinds of women. There’s the woman who has always known (like, from birth) that she has wanted to be a mother – and she is fantastic at it, thriving in this role. (In fact, for her, it’s not a role – it is who she is to the core.) On the other end of the spectrum is the woman (also, almost from birth) who has always known that she did not want to be a mother – and she finds her womanly fulfillment in a myriad of other ways throughout her life. Then there’s the other one in the middle somewhere – the one who wants to be a mom, but is the kind that does not automatically love all children (she loves hers completely and cares infinitely for the children of her friends and extended family, but that’s about the extent of it). For her, mothering is amazing, but not necessarily the defining factor in her life.

I have always candidly believed I have fallen into the middle category. I love my kids – but this mothering thing sort of rubs me the wrong way sometimes. Requiring much more selflessness than I ever would have guessed and much more than I seem to have at my disposal to dole out. I have these longings – to do so much more, to be so much more…a longing to still be the one being taken care of, instead of the consummate caregiver…

I have these longings – to do so much more, to be so much more…a longing to still be the one being taken care of, instead of the consummate caregiver…

Yes, I have dreams. Some can wait for me and my season of life to change. And some will not. Yes, I have yearnings and discontentment that drive me to question my commitment to my children. But something I know for sure – I have been handed two children. God could have chosen a childless life for me. But, for whatever reason, He didn’t. He, the Creator and Guide of my life, knew the best goals for my life and the best ways to get me there. And He knows my struggles – inside and out – and He is just waiting for me to hand them back over to Him.

And so that is what I must do. Do the next thing – take the next step – wake up the next day and meet my children’s needs. All the while – allowing my God to walk with me and bring me closer to what He wants me to be, which technically should be my ultimate goal and dream anyway. So I’ll chase after that dream – the one that can be attained no matter the season of life…

Elisabeth K. Corcoran, 2001

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