Most of my blogs compose themselves in my head while I’m busy
doing other things. I think about what’s
happening around me and what’s relevant in my world. This morning as I was getting ready to head
into the office, I was thinking about Mother’s Day coming up and what it really
means to me personally to be a mother.
My boys are my universe.
I watch them every day and am still absolutely in awe of the fact that
those three beautiful, perfect children grew inside me. When I talk about them everyone can hear my
pride; they are such incredible boys.
They are funny and smart, talented beyond words. Each of them is so incredibly different, but
all three are so incredibly alike. My
heart overflows with how much love I feel for them.
But there are things that I wish that I could change about
being a mother.
There was a time that I could hear a siren and not
automatically feel my heart start to beat faster at the thought that something
might be wrong. If I see an ambulance
travelling in the boys’ direction on a day when I’m heading home to pick them
up, I hold my breath until I see them and know that they are safe.
I have to learn to let go.
As Daniel gets older I’m struggling with finding the right balance between
giving him freedom and being comfortable with that freedom. I’ve had more than one person tell me that my
rules won’t work for a kid who’s almost 16.
I’m trying, but I’m struggling to find the balance because the balance
means overcoming my fears. It means
starting to let go and to admit to myself that he is almost ready for me to let
go.
I hate that I think of the boys as growing up in a broken
home. I know that this is what our
culture calls it when we raise children outside the marriage in which they were
conceived. I’m scare d that the boys
will grow up and feel broken. I’m afraid
that no matter how much I love them and how much I give them, that the damage
they will sustain long term as a result of the fractured relationship between
their dad and I will not be repairable.
I’m scared that one day those boys will be grown and they
will leave and I won’t know what to do with myself. I won’t know how to move forward without
having them there by my side. And for all
my complaining about Michael waking me in the wee hours of the morning when he
crawls into my bed and strokes my hair, I’m afraid that the day will come that he
does not anymore. I’m afraid that one
day Lucas won’t come up behind me as I’m trying to get things done and wrap his
arms around me and tell me that he loves me and he needs a hug.
Being a mother is enmeshed in who I am; I am nothing if I am
not their mother. The sound of the noise
and the sound of the love are intertwined in my world. Being their mother is the most rewarding and
frightening thing I will ever undertake.
But I wouldn't have it any other way.
I wouldn't change the tears, the fright, the joy, the laughter the
absolute craziness for anything in this whole world. I wouldn't change a single piece of how it
has unfolded because this is their story and my story is only about them.
Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers. As you go down your own path of mothering I
hope that the joy will always outweigh the sadness and that you will be able to
find yourself again one day when those children are all grown.
