There are moments I really sit down and ponder motherhood and its complexities. I knew at a young age how to become a mom. That was easy, but gross. I knew as a teenager the duties of being a parent. I knew as a woman that it is life changing to be a parent. I know as a mother everything I thought before were simply hints. These were the whispers of all the Moms before me sharing tidbits, but not the core.
I have wanted children all of my life. I was going to have it all. I remember being a young teenager and telling Jana immediately following graduation I was going to marry my high school sweetheart, work full time, go to college and have a baby. I’d graduate and be successful in my career. As a teenager, I knew the duties of being a parent: you provide the necessities. What I failed to understand is motherhood has accountabilities to self not just obligations to others.
No women can entirely understand these accountabilities until having a child. And by no means do I mean only biologically. We can never learn the mental, physical and financial vulnerability of parenting until one becomes a parent. It is that simple. It is that exhausting. It is that thoughtful. It is that expensive. It is that scary.
We are not given lessons to become parents. We are given an education from other parent’s experiences with other children and other mother’s pregnancies as well as labor and delivery. We can listen intently and plan accordingly, but what is to come is unknown. It is all personal. How we feel is uncertain and how we will react is a mystery until it all comes to pass. At the moment we meet our child I didn't know my heart would forever hurt. A mother’s heart aches for their child every day. An ache filled with hope, want, desire and wishes yet to be figured out. I think this is the true meaning of “love hurts.” I didn’t expect my heart to hurt when I was wishing good things for my son’s futures. I expected an uplifted light heart, but it sits heavy as I want so much for them.
The physical memory of natural child birth has left my memory replacing it with an emotional wound I feel daily. The love of a mother never leaves, but grows stronger with every passing day. I didn’t know this. I figured love is love. I can look at my boys and see that wrong I was. Each day I feel more connected and bonded and much more in love. I was taught comfort measures of labor, positions of delivery and baby care methods. Not one person taught my heart how to love as a mother. It was not prepared for the intensity. I am still not prepared as it surprised me once again earlier today. I don’t think we ever are.
I am an emotional being. I cry watching commercials. I am a dramatic being. I tell colorful stories. I have a lot of compassion for life’s hurt. I didn’t realize how this would intensify as a mother. I often repeat, “God forbid that happen to one of the boys.” I now read a story or see something on the television with a reaction so strong it is as if it is happening in real time in my presence to one of my boys. I can no longer watch or read media that include children crimes. I hear of a child contagious with disease or of a child recovering from a bullet wound and my heart sinks and stomach grows ill. It really could all happen to us. How do parents survive? The once viewed fun each-to-their own world is now one I see filled with dangers and darkness. I was blind. I thought motherhood would put me over the edge. Instead, it keeps me on edge. I want to know that .68 miles from our new home is an offender. I don’t want television in our home teaching violence and acting out poor behavior until the boys have a foundation. A mothers sacrafices to do this... there goes Oprah’s last season!
I understood life changes with children, but not how children change life. My children have taught me what are small things in my adult life are exactly this- small! Ironically, the small things in the life of a child are life’s biggest things. I watch the moon glow almost every night. I follow ants on my hands and knees. I dance before the sun is 'awake'. I have a better understanding for both “Don’t sweat the small stuff” and “Stop to smell the roses” then I did before becoming a mother.
I have a robust sense of smell, which I didn’t have three years ago. I can be on a date with Adam and the smell of the boys in the bath will waft through the air. I can snuggle up to my pillow and know who was there before me. I can smell my children while on vacation and instantly miss their sweetness wanting to return home to feel in my hands what is dancing in my nose. I didn’t expect as a stay at home mom I would miss my children when away. I mean, I am with them each and every day… all day. Who knew I would feel guilty for time away?
I am learning that what was once predictable is growing into randomness that is falling out of my control. I have to make decisions in a split second. I have to remember that Kaden has interest in being potty trained (at his OWN pace) and there will be more days at Safeway he screams to go “pee pee” that I have to decide how to juggle: naked Kaden, public toilet, Ashton in arm and purse on wrist. As I do this I cannot obsess that it took 45 restless minutes to grab ½ a cart of groceries to just leave the cart down the long hallway when we return 20 minutes later (after he decides he doesn’t have to go potty) that it has been returned to the shelves. I will be faced with impasses that I never imagined. Predicaments sounding so trite pre-motherhood, but now are so tricky to solve as a mom. I didn’t realize what a problem solver I am.
And even thought I am now a puzzle solver and daily hero I need to learn to love me. I need to remind myself that I am not in my twenties, nor did I give birth in my twenties. I was pregnant for 18 months out of a 27 month stretch. It will take time for this old over worked body to find its way back, if it ever does. And I have a feeling that even after the weight is shed I won’t feel twenty ever again. I certainly won’t look it with the bags under my eyes and flab of my skin. I am okay with this. I never would have guessed that I would trade vanity for life. I did and I would do it all over again.
I was a vain young lady. I often caught the eyes of guys. I had a nice slender tan body. I was fit. I dreaded pregnancy for all of its ugliness and unknowns. What was once ugly is now my reminder that I have what I have always wanted: children. What was once ugly is my reminder that I have what some couple never bare: children. What was once ugly is now disappearing leaving silver marks where red and purple once took hold. I am coming to a deeper understanding that these marks are not unattractive to my husband. He doesn’t want for anyone else. He wants the woman who is guiding his children every day and keeping a home for his retreat. He doesn’t look past me for the physical changes. He still looks at me for who I am becoming.
Romance is candle lit dinners and sandy beaches under stars. It is flowers and long massages. Well, at one time it was. No one ever told me that a new romance would bloom as our family grew. No one warned me that what would change wouldn’t be our desire or interest, but our methods of giving care and consideration. I didn’t know I could get goose bumps from a wink given across a slide. I never guessed a kiss on the forehead and a cuddle on a hospital cot would connect me to my partner. It did. It is continued car, house and entrance doors being opened and a hand on the small of my back leading me through a room. Romance isn’t about champagne. It is caressing your relationship giving it support and comfort during what is real. It is simply not evenings of soft lights and sweet words.
I didn’t see an issue with technology. It is the way of the future. I then had children. They are the way of the future. I think only a mom can understand the insanity of what may be ahead.
As a childless woman I was glad to witness accomplishments made by children and even smiled in delight, but as Mom I take it to a different level. I want everyone to know that Kaden went poo-poo in the potty and Ashton can get on and off his bike without assistance. Motherhood is like a huge waving banner to warn, brag and boast in ways I never dreamed. Motherhood is the place where happiness is shared in tears and laughter can be anger. Who knew that a sobbing slobbery cry would mean I was moved. And even more who knew this would happen frequently? Motherhood is a free pass for days to clearly be insane.
So much I didn’t know about motherhood. How could I? How can any woman until she walks her path? Our journeys will all be different. As different as each will be the core is the same each is filled with unconditional genuine love. The trickery of motherhood is no one really knows the secrets, but I am finding my confidence and loving the magic it brings.
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