The Hardest Part.

There’s something about {most} women, that even from a young age, whenever they hold a baby their uterus will inevitably start thumping. The yearning to birth and hold and cherish a child of your own can be overwhelming.

And you would think that when you actually have a child, that thumping would go away.

Except that when you do have said child, that thumping goes about a foot higher to your heart where it feels like you cannot breathe every time said child whimpers, is out of your sight…

or as will be the case tomorrow, simply, grows up.

There is something about Goob’s birthdays that turn me into a hot.crying.mess. Oh, who I am kidding? I’ve practically lived in the rocking, fetal position in a corner of the attic since he was born. It is not pretty.

Actually, I took the first few birthdays relatively well. There was too much excitement and fun to be caught up in to realize he was not going to stay a baby forever. But then that 5th birthday came. Oh.My.Word. It did me in. Because up until that point I had a baby, then a toddler, then a preschooler. But a five-year-old? Fiercely independent, strong-willed, and no longer willing to be held at a whim. Nope, this was a full-fledged little boy. And my heart started breaking.

I remained pretty much unscathed by ages 6 and 7. But over the last couple of months, it hit me. It hit me hard.

If life goes the way it’s “supposed” to, and Goob–at age 18–decides to go to college away from home, or join the military, or be a missionary, or simply wants to see the world–

Well, then I have one decade left to make every moment count.

One decade. Ten more years. And my little boy will become a man.

It is too much for my heart to take.

You see, every mom will say how much they love their child. And I believe them. But I do not think you know how wrapped up my life is in him. At times, I would say it’s unhealthy. But other times, I treasure how much love I have for him. I think to myself, “If I love him THIS much, how much more does God love me?” And I stand amazed.

Yes, that is the hardest part. To know I will always be his mom, but little by little he won’t need me in the sames ways he’s needed me until now. Especially as a young man, he’ll turn to his father more and more.

I’ll get the shaft and will possibly need to purchase a space heater for the attic. It gets pretty cold up there and there is only so much warming up rocking will do for your body.

Ten more years. One decade. Here’s to making every single one of those seconds count.

Making the decision to have a child – it’s momentous.
It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.

– Elizabeth Stone

Top left: 2 days old; Ages 1 - {almost!} 8

 

Edited to link up with::

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2 thoughts on “The Hardest Part.

  1. Pingback: Saying yes to your children. « A Life Well Done

  2. Pingback: Eight. « A Life Well Done

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