As I look out from my narrow, single-mom perspective, I see the things I am missing. I don't always talk about them, and sometimes I think "nice" thoughts in my head, like, "Oh, I wish my child could have a dad, but I'm so happy for that little girl getting a giant hug from hers. God is our Provider." Sometimes, I think bad thoughts such as, "This married person who is attempting to relate to me doesn't even know what it's like to be me. How dare she even try. She gets rest and breaks and dates with her husband and lots of love. She never has to tear herself away from her screaming child so she can provide for her. "
I'm so sorry for those thoughts, and I'm thankful God already knows that I'm going to think them. I try not to anymore.
The truth is...I don't know what it's like to be her. I don't know what it's like to have marital problems for years. I don't know what the stinging disappointment feels like to the wife who has taken negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test. I don't know what it's like to feel just like a single mom as you wait for your husband to get home from working late night after night. I don't know what it's like to be home with kids, all day, every day, or to be made fun of for being pregnant with your sixth child. I don't know what it's like to try really hard on dinner every night and never be thanked. I don't know what it's like to be under appreciated by your husband or experience post-partum depression. I don't know what it's like to have health issues or lose a close family member while being a new mom.
The truth is... we are so similar. We both have no idea what each other faces every day. We are both helpless and weak and dependent on Christ for our strength.
Yes, I'm alone. I make all the big, giant, scary decisions. By raising my daughter alone, I am doing an unnatural thing that I never intended to do, but it is nothing more than a natural consequence.. not a punishment or a sentence that I have to carry out.
I play a little game with God sometimes, and I ask Him to be the dad in certain moments. I haven't had a time yet where He hasn't helped me. Sometimes she takes four hours naps. Sometimes a little idea pops into my head which helps me understand what could be wrong with her (today, I bought prune puree for my daughter's fussy self. Let me tell ya, it WORKS!) And sometimes, the way He helps me is by giving me no relief in the moment but to know His presence is there. I just tough it out, with tears in my eyes and a torrent of prayers- that my baby would go to sleep, that she would stop crying, that she would be okay, that she would feel better, that she would be safe, that she wouldn't be psychologically damaged because I can't be with her every moment, that she would eat, that she would be healthy, that she wouldn't be overcome by a sudden awareness that she doesn't have a dad (Yep, it can get pretty ridiculous).
The truth is, she-- married, seemingly happy housewife-- will never know what it feels like. I'll stare at your Facebook photos, and you'll stare at mine. None of us will ever know what it's like to be in each other's bodies, and that's just the way God intended.
So, dear friend, I love you. You're doing a great job.
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