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I hope it is not a surprise to anyone when I state that life is not always easy. Marriage is not always easy. Motherhood is not always easy. Careers/jobs are not always easy. And yet in those difficult times, I find myself growing, developing, maturing, and strengthening.
In this special time of the year when we reflect on the things/people/moments in our lives for which we’re thankful, this year I am thankful for the struggle.
I met my husband soon after he quit his job as an accountant and moved back in with his parents in order to begin medical school prerequisites and hopefully one day become a doctor. Many of our friends married around the same time we did, and we began our new lives as newlyweds living in Austin, most working our way up the career ladder. We enjoyed one year of downtown Austin living with two incomes before my husband’s medical journey really began. As our friends started to pay down school debt, buy homes, and build savings accounts, we moved to El Paso for medical school away from friends and family and became a one-income family. I became the provider and adjusted to my new role as a medical student’s wife. I also stepped into a new role as the executive director of a nonprofit at 29 years old and attempted to learn a new city, culture, and organization while my husband studied day and night while eating three meals a day at medical school. Those first few years were not easy. Medical school required every bit of my husband, and I gave all of myself to my work and building relationships in my new community. We spent long periods of time apart as he completed month-long away rotations in other states and a month-long research trip to Bangladesh.
Yet this time of struggle built a foundation for our marriage.
We maximized every moment together, we supported one another in our endeavors, and we dreamed of a future together filled with adventure and beauty. We fell in love with hiking and farmers’ markets, we reconnected on countless road trips, and we embraced our collective weirdness in costume parties galore.
The struggle caused us to press into one another, and for that, I am thankful for the struggle.
Fast forward a couple years to my husband’s intern year of residency. We moved to Jacksonville, Florida for his ER residency and had a six month old son. We were further away from family than we had ever been, and my husband was working 15+ hour shifts most days. When he was home, he just slept. I honestly can’t recall how awful that year was- it is all just a blur, which is probably a blessing so I can’t relive it. I attempted to work full-time to help supplement residency pay, which is not great, and placed our son in full-time daycare. So much of his second year of life (months 12-24) felt like a struggle- seemingly working the exact opposite schedule of my husband, our son’s continual sickness from daycare, three of our grandparents passing away within six weeks, and my husband’s perpetual exhaustion. I have always worn the hat of a cheerleader in our family, but even I was losing steam. Every day felt like a struggle, and I couldn’t see the light.
But the joy of this struggle was simply survival.
We made it through. I am stronger than I thought I was and can take joy in my ability to persevere. It may not seem like much, but during that time, it was all I had.
When I first ran my first long race (10 miles), I was shocked to learn that the key to my success was just to keep running.
Just don’t stop.
The beginning of residency reminded me of this lesson- just don’t stop moving, and you’ll make it to the other side.
When my husband and I made the decision to move our little family (now with two boys) to Corpus Christi, we longed for a time of stability and slowing down together as a family. We thought things would get easier on the other side of training now that he had a “real doctor job.” Yet the struggles remained. Hurricane Harvey hit within three weeks of moving here, and my husband’s hospital closed down with his job status uncertain. Eventually they reopened his hospital, but then his ER company pulled out of their contract with the Corpus hospitals leaving his job status uncertain again. Add to this, life on an island, which although has some perks, feels much lonelier than we expected. My husband has worked more than we thought he would this year, which at times has felt too much like residency. I have struggled to build relationships and find my place in community. We have moved often, and I know it can take a year or longer to transition into a new city, but this transition has felt different. I also have been a stay-at-home mom longer than previous stretches, and I have longed for something of my own, to keep my skills fresh.
Yet in these struggles, I have pressed into my faith to a deeper level than before, and I have celebrated each moment of victory, ease, community, and peace.
Yes, I have felt alone and both literally and figuratively on an island for much of this year. But after times of loneliness, my time with family and friends has tasted much sweeter, and
my heart is thankful for how I have learned more about myself, my desires, my dreams, and hopefully grown as a mother and wife.
