Author: octane

Octane is built on authentic communities and founded on acts of selfless service. Mothers of May is a month long celebration of moms from all aspects of life. By hosting a space for ‘each one teach one’ women share their own unique perspectives and lessons of motherhood. 

BY maria lorenz

I never thought I wouldn’t be a mother. I’m not sure why. Maybe it was my upbringing; mothers have daughters and daughters then become mothers, that’s what happens I can’t say that I knew what kind of mother I wanted to be, but who does? I also knew I was not going to be a young mother, I had a plan.

There is always a way things are to happen. There are plans. However, a strong theme in my life is me having a plan or a picture of how it should go, and then God says, “I’ve already written that path my daughter, just keep walking.”

My vision probably started in high school. I was to attend college, graduate, build my career, find the love of my life, have children, and grow old, etc…The ideal ‘normal’ life. My life and journey into motherhood has been anything but normal.

I did go to college, and I thought I was following the plan, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Looking back, I should have taken some time off after high school, I was highly unaware of what path I wanted to pursue, but the plan was college, nothing else even crossed my mind. One year in, I changed my major three times and was more interested in being discovered by a WNBA coach than school. Then out of nowhere I also met the love of my life. Some parts of the plan weren’t ideal, but some were great, so went with it.

Matt and I were engaged after a year of dating and then a few months later we found out we were blessed with our engagement present. This was not a part of the plan. I never even wanted to physically have children, I wanted to adopt. This plan of mine was falling apart. I was struggling in school, WNBA was not calling, and now I’m supposed to be a mother??? I was barely an adult.

No one knows how to be a mom. No one knows what to do all the time. No one goes into motherhood knowing everything, but I didn’t know that.

I never remember my mother saying anything like, ‘I don’t know it all,’ or ‘I’m just trying to keep up,’ She just always seemed to know what to do, how to handle things, and how to keep the family going. I thought that was in inherent ‘mother thing’. I learned very quickly it’s not.

I didn’t know that growing a human being in my body would be the most amazing experience I would ever have.

I also didn’t know that with all the happiness and joy that a child brings, that sadness even has a possibility to be present. I didn’t even know this kind of sadness existed. That sadness could be overwhelming and crippling. That it would seemingly ruin this amazing new chapter.

No one told me about post-partum depression. It was mentioned in a few of pages of paperwork I was given from my OBGYN, but never discussed. I didn’t even remember hearing about it in passing, ever. Again, the picture in my head of how being a new mom was supposed to be, was falling apart.

At first I would try to be happy. I didn’t want Matt, or anyone for that matter, to even know I was sad. Why should I be sad? It seemed silly. So I just put on a happy face attempted to tough it out. Then Matt would see my crying and I’d blame it on a scene in the show or my allergies. Then I couldn’t hide it anymore. In the middle of a basic conversation with Matt, I started to cry and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know if I would ever be happy again. I thought I was the worst mom in the world.

Eventually, I did know happy again. I was able to smile, and mean it. I was happy to go see people. I was excited to have people come over. I was back to me. This all took time.

I had to ask for help. A major contributor to my depression was feeling like it was all up to me. I had to be strong, I was the mother. This was not true. Matt and I had to find that balance, and it was a life saver. I also learned to talk to people about it. I asked questions, I didn’t feel shame in my depression, but rather, stronger and empowered. My mother shared her own struggle with post-partum that I was completely unaware of. It was comforting to know that I was not alone and I was not a bad mother because I was depressed.

Through each of our children, my depression returned. But each time, I am able to manage it much easier. It may sound strange, but I’m thankful for my type post-partum depression, if there are types. Maybe levels are more accurate. On a scale where green would be easy and red would be the worst, I’d fall in the green fading into yellow. I know it could have been much worse, and I am grateful that my struggle was not in the red.

My growth and journey into motherhood has not been easy. Shoot, I became a mom probably 10 years earlier than planned. So learning and finding what kind of parent I wanted to be, was interesting.

I grew up in a structured household. My parents allowed my siblings and myself to be ourselves, but there were rules and expectations. When I was in it, I didn’t quite appreciate it, but looking back, I was so lucky.

Knowing I wanted to be like my parents did not hit me right away. There are so many books and speakers and personalities that say how you should be, of course I was influenced by them. Baby should nap like this, you should feed this, and you should not use this, blah blah blah. It seriously becomes exhausting trying to keep up. It’s not that I didn’t know anything, but it seemed to be working for that person, so why shouldn’t it work for me and my family? It took many years and just growing up to realize that my family is my family and we can’t be like anyone else.

We can’t fit the perfect mold of how a family should look, act, dress, and live. One thing that has helped Matt and I learn to go with the flow is our children.

We may have had some preconceived expectations when we had our first son. He was going to love sports as much as us. He would ideally be amazing at basketball, be discovered in high school, get a college scholarship to the University of Louisville, and then the NBA would come calling. He was named after the best three-point shooter in NBA history for crying out loud. It was destiny. Again, God already had that story written. To say there weren’t some feelings of disappointment, that he wasn’t all about sports, like Matt and myself, would be a lie. We were hurt. We would try and sign him up for activities hoping this would be the time that it sticks, and it just wasn’t. It was pretty frustrating actually. But, Reggie showed us, very early, that sports are not life. Reggie is smart, artistic, kind, helpful, considerate, sensitive, a video gamer, and is actually just finding his love of football. He is competitive and strives for perfection, but doesn’t base his life on a score board. I couldn’t be more proud of the man he is turning into.

Thanks to Reggie, we learned that having preconceived expectations should not be a thing. Each child is going to be their own person and we were going to have to adapt. And true to form, each of our unique children has helped us to grow and be the parents we are today.

The kind of mother I am today can vary depending on the day. I am not very structured. A lot of days it’s more like a controlled chaos.

Our house is not always clean. It gets clean, but a lot of times, it stays messy. And I don’t always care. I learned, thanks to child number two, that life is too short to worry about all the things you cannot control. I will not waste a nice sunny day on making sure my house is picture perfect. The dishes, laundry, folding, and anything else will have to wait. Enjoying moments with my children or even my husband on those rare day dates, those are what’s important. I refuse to attempt to meet anyone’s expectations, that aren’t my own.

I wouldn’t say I keep my daily expectations low, but I don’t have many expectations of myself daily. My amazing husband gets the older three off to school every day. I get to sleep in a little with our youngest and I am so thankful. It’s not that I’m lazy and won’t get up, I work nights. Matt keeps the ship steered while I sometimes just sleep  in the seat next to him. So even on my nights off, I get to sleep in. I get to, for the most part, take my time on getting up and preparing for the day ahead. So on those days I’m off of work and my children don’t have to see my sleeping, I like to again, enjoy the moment and not be tied down to cleaning or societal ideals that are impossible to meet.

Society thinks it knows best. There is a way things should be done and that’s that. However, anytime I’ve seen, and tried myself, to meet those expectations, it hasn’t gone in my favor.

I’ve tried to be more structured, making sure naps take place at the same time every day. This stopped working with child number one. I’ve tried to be more social, but I’m not a play date mom. I’ve tried to be more Christian; presenting myself as someone who reads her Bible daily and has it all figured out. I’ve tried to be a creative mom. One of those moms who makes everything for their children; no store bought anything. I’ve tried being super involved in my children’s school; making PTO meetings, heading committees, and showing up for different events. I’ve tried to become who I thought I should be, and it hasn’t worked. So now I am just me.

I’m may not be structured, but my children know their expectations. We have a daily routine, and rules to follow. They’re happy, healthy, and thriving, so what more could I be?

I’m not the most social mom, but my children have their friends and I make sure they get time with them. I don’t have to hang out with their parents too, it’s fine. When we find families that have children and we can all hang together, that’s a huge blessing. We appreciate these families because they know what we go through. But sometimes, kids can go play and momma can take a nap. It’s a win, win.

I’m a Christian. That is enough. My children know God, they know Jesus. They know they are loved beyond measure by another Father who has laid out this amazing world just for them. I am proud of that and will help to continue to guide them. And I can only pray that I continue to be a model for them, but I will not give them a false notion of perfection.

Sometimes mommy doesn’t have it all together; sometimes I don’t know the answer. Let’s pray on it and go from there. Perfection is impossible and not real life.

I have spent crazy amounts of time and money making things for my children so they feel extra special. The more time I spent on something, the more I thought they would feel loved. Birthday parties, desserts for school, fun activities to do at home, or for entertainment on a rainy day. It was hard, it was stressful, and it honestly didn’t make any experience more enjoyable. In the end, I realized I was trying to impress others and not because I enjoyed doing any of it. If I feel like putting in a creative effort, I will, but I will not stress myself out just to impress others.

I’m also a working mom. This doesn’t mean I don’t love my children any less. My children love seeing me in a career I love and they know that I make a difference. There is sacrifice. I miss events, moments, and experiences, but I make sure my children know it isn’t because I don’t love them. I tried exhausting myself by being involved in their schools and activities, but in the end, my children were actually losing out on quality time with me. I balance life by work days and days I have off, and that’s working for us.

Being just me, means that I can be who God made me. I can be this strong independent woman who is also a partner to her husband. I have a voice and I use it. I speak up when I feel it necessary, and sometimes when it’s not. I don’t fall into the usual norms of what a wife should be and do, and that’s just fine. My husband loves every piece and part of me.

Being me means loving all of me. Sometimes, I don’t. Sometimes I get so discouraged about what I see in the mirror that I lose all motivation for the day. Sometimes I love what I see in the mirror and it makes me want to continue for big results. I’m not a yo-yo dieter; I go with the flow of life. Sometimes I look fit and feel it, and sometimes, I want to eat cake. I remember that I am a role model for my children. I let them know how beautiful they are. I let them know that God made them perfectly. I let them know that sometimes it’s great to be active and we have to remember to take care of the vessels God has given us. Sometimes it’s mommy going on a run, or to the YMCA with Daddy, or just going on a hike with the family. Let’s just be healthy together.

Being me means that I can teach my children that they can be who they want to be.

They can love who they love, dress how they want to dress, and enjoy life. I will not push them into a mold that doesn’t allow them to be happy or be themselves. I know I cannot protect them from everything, but I will do my best to make sure they are children for as long as possible. That they see the good in everyone, and that they never feel like they aren’t good enough. I will do my best to make sure they know they are enough.

Being me means that I get to be happy, sad, angry, tired, and sometimes lose my mind. I don’t always have it together, and I don’t have to pretend to.

Because I can be me, others around me can be them. They don’t have to have it all figured out. They don’t have to have a spotless house. They can just feel like poo some days and I’ll be there if they need me. Their kids can be a little crazy, have some messy hair, or food on their faces, and that’s great. Chances are my children will as well.

My point is that people will have a lot of opinions about you, your children, your life, that way things should be done. Don’t listen. It may sound cliché, but other people’s opinions of you don’t matter.  Not to say that sometimes sound advice is necessary and needed, but know who you are, know your family, and know who you want to be in life.

My ‘plan’ now is to not have one. That is to say, I don’t have any preconceived notions of how things are supposed to go. This epiphany has taken many years to learn, but it has brought me to where I am today, and that is the blessing.  

Maria Lorenz is the wife to Matt and mother to Reggie, Destiny, Zoey, and Walker. The family also consists of 3 doggies and a cat.

Maria also works as an emergency veterinary technician.

In her free time, Maria enjoys time with the family, hiking, camping, watching movies, listening to music, and going on new adventures. Maria also enjoys running and the challenges and clarity running brings to her.

She has been able to complete a few marathons and several half marathons. She hopes to complete a half marathon in every state.

Octane is built on authentic communities and founded on acts of selfless service. Mothers of May is a month long celebration of moms from all aspects of life. By hosting a space for ‘each one teach one’ women share their own unique perspectives and lessons of motherhood. 

By Heather Amos

Motherhood. I was a single Mom for 5 years. I was a young mom having my first child at the age of 19. Currently I wear the badge of stepmother as well. I suppose I have covered lots of Mom roles over the course of years.

Being a mother is absolutely not definable. Is that even a word? It is a medley of poems linked together in no particular order, all the while sounding lovely. It is bearing the life of another and always putting that life before yours.

It is not enchanting, this role, but it is magnificent.

As a mother you are expected to sow and sow, some screams and prayers included, and hope that eventually you will see the fruit develop from your child or children.

In some cases, we aren’t afforded that. Death, addictions and other choices trump those words we spoke years before. If we are granted the awesomeness of watching them flourish…wow. I would say what an honor.

Personally, I am thankful to my 18-year old daughter. She pulled open a tab in my life folder that I never even knew existed. She made me better. Not like the lame love songs, like for real, legit, agape love.

She sparked within me the challenge to show her what life was all about. Dreams? Goals? Early on, I was only able to show her what hard work was, as I put myself through night school and worked full time during the day. I think maybe she sees now, I did it for more than myself. Did I fail her on the regular. of course. But, I would like to cling to the hope that maybe some scraps of my nagging and preaching made their way onto her plate.

Now I am a stepmother also. I see that motherhood yet again requires adaptability to be who someone else “needs”. I do not fill the role or have to be the dream shaper or disciplinarian (even though I nag enough for both), but what I am assigned to be is an encourager.

In any form of mother-hood you are addressing, you will find that you are hated, and not validated at all.

This can be even more clear in the step parent role, but I have learned over the years that you have to remember who you “can” be for them, and not who they wish you were.

Heavy stuff, huh.

My youngest son is medically fragile. He has spiced up my mask changing exceptionally. The constant awareness of mortality and 24/7 care, not really required to that intensity of the others, brings forth even more new victories with each battle.

I know that some women refuse to be defined as anything specific, as not to change or challenge their individuality or accomplishments, and I agree for the most part.

However, I know, KNOW, that I have been a better woman, friend, daughter, spouse etc., because God made me a Mother.

In every capacity and all that it is. This position is highly valued, coveted and favored. So don’t down play the excellence therein.

I wish all of you others out there a blessed day to celebrate to hard times, the good times, the in-between times and just be in awe for a few seconds before someone yells and needs something to examine the fact that you brought forth life my dear.

How awesome.

A native of Lexington, Kentucky, Heather holds an associate degree in science. The mother of two special-needs children, she has eight years of experience in complex home care and is the veteran of seventeen years of special-needs care. She was motivated to collate the stories in I’m Not “OK” to benefit others in her situation, using her experiences to foster a strong and powerful community of caregiving parents.