Being Momma Can Hurt

There is a song called "Love Hurts" that I have always thought was stupid. The song is talking about romantic love and how essentially it's all a bunch of crap that will only destroy you in the end. I never believed the song and I still don't. But... love can hurt. Being a momma and loving your children can, and often does, hurt more than anything else in the world.

Two nights ago I spent several hours in the emergency department of our local children's hospital with my children. My son was getting a psych eval. No mother ever wants to see her child hurting physically, mentally or emotionally. We want to protect our babies, no matter how old they may be, from all kinds of hurt and harm. We want to keep them safe in a warm, happy little bubble forever.

Unfortunately, this is entirely impossible. The only time we can come close to keeping them safe in the bubble is when they're in utero and not even born yet. At some point that baby is going to come out and he or she will begin the inevitable process of growing up. Part of growing up and experiencing life is to live through heartache and wounds, whether they be physical, mental or emotional. The mean kid in preschool who hits you and takes the toy you were playing with. The girl in 2nd grade who tells people that you still sleep with a baby blankie. The best friend in middle school who suddenly turns on you for no apparent reason and crushes you. Your first love ending your relationship and walking away without a thought. Life can be rough.

As mothers we have lived through many of these rough spots and we know the hazards that life can hold for our babies as they grow. We do our best to shield and shelter them, knowing all the while that we cannot protect them forever. Inevitably something will come crashing into the safety of the bubble and the result will be hurt and sadness.

Thursday night was not, by any means, the first time that the bubble had been crashed into during my son's life. It was the first time that I felt like if something drastic didn't change immediately that our entire family was going to fall apart so badly that we would never be able to find all the pieces. Our lives would be shattered like the teapot that I cannot possibly put back together because some of the pieces are so tiny they are dust.

I want my son to be safe. I want him to be happy. I want him to know what an amazing person he is. I want him to see the beauty that lives in his soul. I want him to know from the depths of his being that the world is truly a better place because he is here in it. I want him to know the joy that he has brought me. From the first time that I saw him still wet and wrinkled from birth and looking very similar to Curious George. My son is one of the sweetest people I have ever met. And I have not been kind to his sweet self. Life has not been kind to him either.

But when push came to shove and my choice was to throw up my hands and walk away from the pain and difficulty of helping him find his way back to himself or to stand and fight for him when he can't do it for himself, I chose to fight. There are no easy answers in being a mother. There are no easy answers in life. But I do know that my son is mine and I am here to help him be the best person that he can be. It is my job as his mother to protect him and fight for him in whatever way I need to. And that is very scary and it hurts a lot.

Elie Wiesel said "once you bring life into the world, you must protect it." I brought my son into the world and I must protect him as much as I am able. The part that hurts is knowing that there will never be enough that I can do to protect him as much as I want to. I walk a fine line between keeping him safe and letting him live life. This is the part of parenting that makes it so difficult. To let him experience new things and to try out his frail little wings, knowing that at some point he will be hurt and there is little that I can do about it. The hurts that our children experience hurt us twice as much as they can ever hurt the child himself.

Thank You, Little Teacher

As I write this, you are 10 years old, soon to be 11. The girl you are and have been is being left behind a little more each day as you turn into the woman you have become. I wish you could know this girl like I do. I wish that the adult you are now could come back and sit with me and watch your girl you for a while. You would see so many wonderful things about yourself.

You would see your vitality and passion for life. You would hear your beautiful laugh and see your amazing smile. You would see how you rarely hold back in any situation and how you jump in to new experiences, sure that it will be a good thing.

My beautiful girl, who is loud and obnoxious at times, but loves to cuddle babies and has a way with fussy toddlers that most adults do not possess. My girl who wants to save every animal on the planet from harm, hunger, cold, fear, and extinction. I'm quite sure that if it were up to you, we would have a huge assortment of animals in our house so you could try to save them all. I know that life has taught you that you cannot save them all, but somehow that seems to have made you all the more determined to at least try. Your tender little heart does not seem to have been hardened to suffering.

I want you to see how your conviction is strong to always do the right thing and to stand up for yourself and others. I want you to understand that you are a beautiful person, both inside and out, and that you will always have that inside of you. Even now as you are older and life has thrown things at you that are hard, know that inside of you is this gorgeous, shining, vibrant girl who doesn't take no for an answer (even when she probably should) and refuses to conform to someone else's ideas of perfection.

I would love to sit next to you as we watch your girl self, poised on the edge of womanhood and ready to plunge deeper into life and all that the world has to offer.

And I want to thank you. Through you I have been shown the world in a way that I never would have seen it otherwise. I have been shown that I, too, have that girl child inside of me who isn't afraid to take chances. I have been made a better, stronger person who can do the sometimes hard work of life because I know that it will be good. By emulating you I have become more patient, kind, compassionate, fun, fearless, and hardworking. I have learned to live my life with grace and truth as you do. You and your brother both inspire me every day to be a better person, to reach higher, try harder, love deeper, laugh louder, and play longer.

I always thought that it was my job as your mother to teach you how to be and how to live, but you have taught me more in your 10 years than I learned on my own in nearly 32 years. I cannot wait to meet the person that you are today. I am sure that you have accomplished amazing things. With a heart like yours, there is simply no other option.

I love you always and forever.

Hello Little...

I had a sonogram on January 19th, almost a week ago. I was 19 weeks along exactly and I was so excited to see the baby! The tech looked at all of the anatomy, which is perfect and then surprised me to bits when he said that there was a little boy in there! I was not expecting that so I made the tech look a few more times, just to be sure.

I couldn't go to sleep that night until I had picked out at least a first name for my little man. I felt terrible that he didn't have a name. Problem solved, however, because now he is Samuel. No middle name yet, but we're working on it. I was looking through my family tree today, trying to find inspiration for a middle name and I realized something incredible. My mother's grandfather (my great-grandfather) had the middle name of Samuel! I had no idea that it was a family name, but now I'm more sure than ever that I chose the right name, or it chose me. I loved my Grandpa Pete. He was loving and funny and so very sweet to all of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Unfortunately, he died when my oldest was only 3 weeks old. Grandpa Pete never got to meet any of his great-great-grandchildren.

I'm sure that he knows about this newest family addition, and I can just see his face crinkling up in a big grin, knowing that he has a great-great-grandson on the way who will share a name with him.

Over the weekend we also went down to Houston for a family baby shower. My aunt is pregnant with her first baby, a boy, and due in about 6 weeks. It was fun to talk about our pregnancies and parenting and breastpumps and all of that mama stuff. It's fun for me to be around first-time mamas because it reminds me of that excitement and wonder that I felt when I was getting ready to be a mom for the first time. Amazingly, that feeling doesn't really diminish with each baby. I am just as excited this time around as I was the first and second time. Maybe even more than before because now I am older and wiser and I get to try new things that I didn't even know about 12 and 10 years ago.

Mornings

Every morning now, I lie in bed and feel for you. I have my hands on my belly where your temporary home is growing a little bit bigger each day. Every so often, I can feel your tiny bumps and wiggles. You're still so little that I have to pay attention to feel you moving. Pretty soon you'll be bigger and everyone will be able to feel your movements through my belly. Until then, the evidence of your presence is only for you and I to share. It's like our little secret.

I talk to you all the time. Mostly in my head, but out loud too now that you have ears and can hear with them. I often wonder about the sounds you hear while you are swimming around inside. Can you hear your brother and sister talking? Will you know their voices when you are born? I tell you about your family, and the people that will be a part of your life.

You are a tiny little person, but already deeply loved and greatly anticipated.