The main character of every story worth remembering overcomes some sort of adversity. Struggle is what creates the drama, a story worth retelling. If there is no struggle, there is no growth, no reward, and no great ending. Our family has learned that on the other side of suffering, gifts are received that could otherwise not have been awarded.
Early on in our marriage we survived the unthinkable, unexpected losses of my husband’s 20-year-old sister, and then my 4-year-old nephew 2 years later. We were devastated, but we did learn from it. We learned, for example, that the sun does actually come up the morning after your world is shattered. These losses took away any desire I’d had at the time to become a mother. A couples years later, when the desire returned, I learned motherhood was not something that was going to come easy.
Izak was our third IUI, after years of trying on our own. We were unsuccessful at so many more IUIs trying to make him a big brother that the fertility clinic we were using finally kicked us out. Fortunately for us, my mom introduced to me the Catholic church’s fix for infertility. NaPro Technology, and learning I had leaky gut, eventually got us Nadia.
Having a baby is an easier miracle for some than others. My miracles included a lot of work and perseverance. I cried, begged God, took supplements, went to appointments, cried some more, gave myself shots, avoided workouts and hot tubs and took all the romance out of the marital act. Peeing on a stick would tell me when to attack my husband and go time would always seem to present itself when we were both exhausted.
When I got my first positive pregnancy test, I instinctively threw it in the trash thinking it was broken. This is a sad truth that might say more about my exhausted, hopeless state of being at that time, but also, it’s a bit embarrassing to admit. Motherhood still kicked my booty, but the memory of begging for this creature to be born kept me going. I remembered bargaining with God to give me this villain and promising to be the BEST MOM EVER if just given the chance.
One night when Izak was just a few weeks old, I came into our bedroom after putting him down for the night and told my husband through tears, “What if we can’t do this again?” He sweetly, calmly responded, “Then we enjoy every moment we have with him.” A couple nights later, I came into our bedroom in tears after putting Izak down and cried to my husband, “I don’t think I can DO this again!” Parenting is a roller coaster ride, especially in the early throws of hormonal chaos and sleep deprivation.
Izak is now almost 14, Nadia is almost 10, and I still swing between the highs and lows of parenting. Now, we are navigating bigger dangers like the internet, drugs, self-confidence and hormones. These challenges offer daily opportunities to overcome. Sometimes life’s natural consequences are enough to teach us what we need to learn.
For example, having to work so hard and wait so long for these small humans to join us made me appreciate each phase of inconvenience they brought to my body and our lives. (Well, usually.) We try to let life’s consequences be the teacher, more than our continual nagging, but it doesn’t always work.
When Izak was about 4, we had a discussion about the importance of looking people in the eyes, especially when you first meet them. He decided he wanted to build this habit. We talked about how consequences teach us, but in this example, the first impression wasn’t really going to cost him enough immediately to create a change in behavior. We decided, jointly, that if he forgot to look someone in the eyes when he met them, I would say, “Give me 10,” and he would then have to do 10 push-ups. When you’re 4, 10 push-ups are not an easy task. This was a little game we played. I remember him doing push-ups when guests came over, in restaurants, and airports, and soon, the habit was formed.
Another awesome byproduct of this consequence was the self-confidence Izak developed while improving his strength. This little kid went from struggling to do 4 straight push-ups at a time, to busting out 10 no problem. He got to feel the effects of his hard work and that brought him the natural joy we all feel when we work hard and improve. He noticed he was getting stronger and that made him want to do more. He fell in love with exercise and the feeling it gave him.
We went on to employ burpees as a consequence. It turns out, the energy expenditure required for 50 burpees is usually enough to sufficiently improve one’s attitude and decision-making. They would be fighting mad when starting the burpees, and by the end they’d be hugging and wrestling and planning their next adventure together.
Both kids now workout on a regular basis. I have never once asked them to do so. They make up their own, or Izak sometimes does a Peloton workout. They just realized early on in life that they feel good when they work hard. More importantly however, is the more simple theme that struggle and effort lead to great things.
We take every opportunity here to celebrate hardships and misfortune and ask what we might be learning from it.
Last year, before Nadia was to compete in her first season of competitive gymnastics, she wanted to quit. She was crying in my lap at Izak’s birthday dinner telling me through sobs she did not want to do gymnastics anymore. I am proud to admit I did not let my astonishment show as I calmly asked her questions. We soon realized she was terrified that she was the only one who didn’t know the routines. When I told her the coaches confirmed she was not behind, the relief on her face was heartbreaking. I realized in that moment how much stress she had been under.
Nadia went on to compete and loved it! We talked often about how she almost quit and would have missed out on such an amazing experience. This experience provided excellent lessons about paying attention to the stories we tell ourselves, the potential joys of tackling our fears, and the self-confidence gained by convincing ourselves that “we can do hard things”.
My kids do not have a lot of struggle. They have it easy. They don’t even have a dog to take care of. But through sports, mean kids at school, and the same array of challenges that all children face, we find ways to welcome difficulties and the gifts they give us. My kids were a struggle to make, and they have been the greatest gifts. Every struggle they endure is a gift to them. Struggle is a great teacher.
