Has Your Identity Been Lost to Motherhood? (or perhaps renewed with greater purpose)
There has been an ever-increasing conversation surrounding a mother losing herself to motherhood. A recent trend has depicted this idea in relation to flamingos who while providing nutrients for their chicks, lose their pink coloring eventually regaining it as the chicks wean and the parent flamingo’s diet is replenished. This has even inspired an entire brand created around the theme “get your pink back”. While this illustration seems rather accurate and relatable for a nursing mother who, like a flamingo, is sacrificing her nutrients and body as a means to provide for her nursing baby; it seems that the illustration falls short if we use it to encompass motherhood entirely.
The truth is that motherhood does change you, with no promise of ever allowing you to return to your former state. There is far more depth to this than the ever-obvious physical changes your body undergoes, the stretch marks and widened hips are merely outward expressions of inward growth and work that has taken place. The call of motherhood is one of great weight, it is a burden to bear; physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Is it true though, to say that a mother loses herself to motherhood? It seems that this wording and the picture illustrated is in response to the sacrificial state a mother finds herself in, left physically depleted from the demand of nursing, left emotionally fragile as a result of broken sleep night after night, and left spiritually weary seemingly laboring in vain at a thankless job that is never done.
Does the thankless nature of the job negate the importance? Does the repetitive nature of the job mean it’s unfulfilling? Is self-sacrifice unworthy in light of the potential reward?
Certainly not. While there may have been a surplus of “me time” that has now been replaced by a nursing schedule, it’s simultaneously been filled with snuggles and tiny smiles that do in fact say, “thank you”. Seemingly every area our calendars once allotted for time spent on self, has now been replaced with a schedule of self-sacrifice, of serving someone who cannot serve themself. And yet, the sacrifice of motherhood is not merely the loss of self, but rather an investment in someone else; with the sweetest reward of watching that investment increase exponentially in its depth and reach. To see the seeds planted in your labors blossom, bloom and produce fruit; to watch the baby you’ve poured yourself into, learn to be a blessing to those around them simply as a result of learning from the example by which you served them. Let us not believe that motherhood steals our identity, rather let us believe wholeheartedly that there is a renewed identity to be found and embraced within the servant heart of motherhood, that does not grow weary in doing good knowing that in due season she will reap if she does not give up.
