“I didn’t know there was a hole, somethingmissing in my soul,
until you filled it up,
with your love.”
I had no idea how much love I could feel for another person until my son was born.
When they put him in my arms, I simply said “I’ve been waiting for him for so long”.
And then I thought, “I am a mother!”
In the blink of an eye, you go from being who you are, to then being someone’s mother.
Your life is immediately turned upside down, in the best way ever. But still, everything changes.
It’s hard to believe what that little precious bundle of beautiful baby, now teenager, could do to make me so frustrated and unbelievably outraged that I would consider throttling him back to last Tuesday.
My son has a hold on me that no one else has been able to come close to.
He spent 9 months growing inside of me, using every moment to get himself ready for life outside of my body.
It’s amazing how you can make such a bond with the little person your body is nurturing. You don’t know them, but they are apart of you like no one else has ever been.
It’s a very odd, but strong emotion.
It was also very odd to be pregnant.
I was uncomfortable and sick everyday for 3 months. Then I started to feel him moving inside of me. I could feel his feet, make out a hand. I knew when he was awake, or had the hiccups. It made me scared when he was asleep and don’t move much.
There were also times during my pregnancy where I was kicked and punched by my growing baby. I had to get up multiple times a night to pee, certain smells made me nauseous, I gained 30 pounds and started noticing stretch marks on my stomach.
After his birth he rarely let me sleep, but I couldn’t stand for him to be away from me. When he was awake, I would feed him or I felt compelled to interact with him.
When he slept, That’s when I would try and get things done around the house.
I had to have him near me if I did try to rest, I was constantly concerned about his well being. Everything surrounded around what he was doing and making sure he was always o.k.
My nipples were chapped, bleeding, and painful from breast feeding, but I still continued to feed him until the doctor told me I didn’t have to continue the torture.
I used to stare at him with amazement that he was mine. I took hundreds of photos of him just sleeping, overwhelmed with love.
If I needed or wanted to go anywhere, I had to pack as if I was going on a week long excursion.
I didn’t know what a foopa was until he was born. Now I do, it’s evident everyday, and it doesn’t even make me mad that he’s the reason for it.
I often watch nature shows. In those documentaries I see animal parents with their babies, and I watch in amazement as the baby animals follow their mothers anywhere they go.
Some of them cling to their mother for dear life, knowing that if they let go they will surely die.
Why are human children so intent in trying to get themselves killed? Wondering as far away as they can, as soon as their able to move on their own?
Why are animal babies so obedient, and human babies so in obedient?
I used to have to put my son on a backpack leash because he was so willing to run as far away from, me as fast as his little legs would take him, wherever we went.
People may have judged me, but a mom’s gotta do what a mom has to do, to make sure her kid survives to adulthood.
The love I have for my son had to survive what others may have judged me for in my attempt to keep him safe.
I remember the first time he embarrassed me in public and made me cry.
We were in a Blockbuster video store check-out line. He wanted one of the toys they placed conveniently in the checkout line.
I told him he couldn’t have it, but he didn’t care, he was going to do whatever it took to try and get me to buy that toy. I didn’t give in to his whining and begging, so he threw himself on the floor kicking and screaming.
I didn’t whack his hinny in front of all the people watching, but I wanted to.
He had never done this before.
I quickly checked out, left the store with my brat, and started crying in the car on the way back to my parent’s house, where we were supposed to be watching the movie.
I couldn’t believe what he had done. I couldn’t believe I could raise a child to act like that. What was I doing wrong?
I still loved him after that. Of course I did, right? I’m his mother. Mothers don’t leave their children just because the child treats them like they’re a piece of worthless garbage, it’s actually something you should expect.
I have to try and pull my emotions together in order and make this horrible experience a lesson, to teach my child how he’s supposed to treat me and other people. What’s acceptable behavior and what isn’t.
I had to continued on when, if it was any other relationship where someone embarrassed me to tears, I would have left and never looked back.
There have been many instances where my son has hurt my feelings or broke my heart, and it made me question what type of a person and mother I was.
It made me question whether he loves me at all, and if I was even supposed to even be a mother.
Regardless of what has happened or how he has made me question motherhood, I just keep going back and trying harder. Almost forgetting about his infractions, but still feeling guilty about all the things I’ve ever done to him that could have been bad decisions on my part.
I had my daughter nine years after my son was born.
When I found out I was pregnant I thought I knew what to expect.
I knew we would start our bond while she grew in my tummy, but I didn’t know her pregnancy was going to be so much different than what I experienced with my son.
I was sick almost every day, all day, until she was born. It was difficult for me to do anything for much of those 9 months.
I got gestational diabetes and had to go on a diet. I ended up loosing 30 pounds during my pregnancy. I wasn’t allowed to eat all the things I wanted to, like pregnant women are allowed to do without any guilt.
For the last month before she was born I felt like her head was sitting on the birth canal, ready to come out at any moment. I was 4 centimeters dialated that whole month, all the nurses and the OB told me that I would go into labor before I went in for my scheduled induction, that was set to be done on her due date.
I never went into labor on my own. I wanted to, it felt like a bowling ball was sitting on my pelvis, so I was induced.
I couldn’t wait to get her out of my body, I had never felt so horrible for an entire 9 months. I was tired of dieting, which I could stop as soon as she was born.
I had forgotten over these past 9 years, since my son was born, what having a new born baby entailed. I didn’t realize how different she would be from my son.
She was born, a fairly uneventful labor, and was placed in my arms.
I fell madly in love all over again.
It’s a crazy feeling, having a baby.
When you hold them in your arms, you realize that they are no longer safe inside your body, but now you have to keep them safe from everything the world can throw at them.
I immediately regretted wanted her birth to come. She was safe in my tummy. Now it was my job to keep her safe.
I was afraid of everything I did when we were out of the house.
I felt anxious when I had to drive with her in my car, afraid another person would cause an accident and she would get hurt.
If I had to take her to the store, I kept her covered so no one would see or touch her, and hope she didn’t get some sort of illness.
Again, I didn’t want her away from me, feeling anxious or uneasy when I couldn’t see her.
I feel so much emotion when I see my children together. Those are people that I made. These little people I am responsible for keeping alive and safe. It’s an overpowering love I didn’t know I could have.
I can understand why I have such a deep love for both of my children.
What I can’t understand is why they don’t feel the same, deep, unbreakable, compassionate love for me as I do for them.
14 year old son:
“I can’t wait until I can just drive away from here.“
5 year old daughter:
“You can’t be my best friend anymore.”
Said and meant to hurt me, both came recently from my children.
I understand that they were said, in anger, to try and make me do something for them that I didn’t want to do.
One wanted to go to a friends house, but he was sick.
The other probably wanted a candy before dinner.
It hurts more when it comes from my 14 year old son. He should know when what he says hurts me.
When my 5 year old tells me I can’t be her friend, it makes me laugh while a little sad at the same time.
Why do they try to hurt me with what they say?
Why do they not listen?
Why can’t they understand that what I’m trying to do for them is what’s best for them?
Why won’t they sit and snuggle with me all day?
Why won’t they keep their rooms clean, pick up after themselves, do the dishes and all the other chores, just to make me happy?
Why would they rather be with their friends?
”Tell your friends you’d rather spend the day with your mom, O.K.?”
I understand it all.
I’m not living in a dream world over here, thinking that they’re abnormal or that their doing anything wrong by not making me feel their constant love, getting their constant affection, or listening and obeying everything I ask of them.
I understand that I did the exact same thing to my parents.
I’m just realizing now, what an extreme A-hole I was to my parents. Now my kids are doing it to me.
I understand when I see a mom or a dad carrying their screaming toddler who wanted a toy and was told NO. Leaving the store while the kid is thrashing away at them.
I understand the love that that parent feels, and the heartbreak they are experiencing at that very moment.
The mom may cry and feel like she’s done something horribly wrong. But when they go home and later the child kisses her goodnight, she understands why she deals with all that crap.
I can understand why parents spoil their children. I would love to make my children happy every moment of every day, showering them with everything they ever wanted. Because when my kids are happy, it makes me happy.
I won’t give them everything they desire, but I can understand it.
It is confusing AF to be a parent, giving everything you have to a child and having them run away with it, all without looking back.
But when I get that hug….that kiss…an “I love you.” It means that what I’m doing, tolerating all their crap and turning it into life lessons, is all worth if.
When you get that handmade card from your preschool child that says “Yuo aur the bast Mawm in the wurld.” it makes up for everything.
Parenting is the most important job I have ever had. It’s the most rewarding career I have experienced. It’s the scariest and most anxious journey I have taken.
I hope, that as my children grow and become adults, they will realize what our journey meant.
I hope that the lessons I teach them stick with them and help them become decent human beings.
I hope my fears don’t keep me from allowing them to live their lives.
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