Mother’s Day is here and I am met by my second year as a Mom. A Mom who still feels entirely new at this thing, and frequently, entirely under qualified, inexperienced and incapable. Recently, I came across this video below on Scarymommy.com that reminds me of what it all really is about. The love that you could never anticipate, never replicate and never deny.
“You’re going to look back and say, “I wish those times would come back. So, keep them. Don’t give them all away…Memories are all that you have left after all of this [having a baby] settles down...”
As a parent, it can be difficult. There are many days where you feel unsure you can take it anymore. You are certain you don’t do this well enough. You’re convinced you’re falling far behind what he/she/they deserve.
But then, there is a day like Friday – a day of cavity filling at the dentist. I sit in the chair, reclined with my belly full of baby #2 raised up above my head. My jaw suddenly aches forcefully from the prop that is keeping it open so that filling number one of three (dear god, three!) cavities can be perfectly placed. I think I might get a Charlie horse in my jaw. My JAW! I struggle to keep it together.
It hurts. My WHOLE jaw hurts. I don’t want it to seize up. Breathe…breathe…I can do this. I realize I need to think about something else, something that distracts me from the discomfort. At first, I literally say to myself “rainbows and butterflies.” And yes, it fails miserably. My pulse races, my jaw is still cramping and I struggle not to panic.
Then my son’s idyllic, happy, diamond blue eyes face flashes to mind. I see our happy times together. He sits on my lap and I gaze at his handsome little self. He toddles up to me and plants a darling Mommy kiss as he says “Hi Mumma” for the thousandth time that day. He reaches up, unprovoked for a hug and heart to heart, head on my shoulder snuggle. He sits in his highchair, yogurt on his nose and breaks out in loud, guttural laughter at my raised eyebrow funny face. He reaches for the living room light over and over again – on, off, on off – saying “Ah done li-y-t” with each off. Now I am choking back tears instead of breath. I focus, hard, on my son. The drilling, polishing, “no I do not smell burning tooth!” goes on. And then it’s over. The prop is out. I have survived filling number one. Filling number two goes much easier. Filling number three will wait until next time.
Dwelling on my son works. It is my peace, my heaven. I am soothed. This is Motherhood. This is new to me. But this is what every day with my darling has prearranged for me. I give my all to him every day and he gives me this: precious memories to carry me through.
God’s greatest gift: Children, family, giving can be if you let them be so.
For Mother’s day, thanks to my son, for being my darling boy who each day challenges me, teaches me and brings me back to a greater love than ever I have known or given. Thanks for this great chance to be a Mum.