Momma on duty

There's one thing they (Who, by the way, is THEY? We keep referring to the ever wise they but never really acknowledge who They are!) never told me when I found out I was to be a mama was how much my soul would be knit to this tiny little creature.

They never told me that the knitting of these souls would never, ever be undone.

I kind of expected the love bit. That was a given. I didn't expect that it might need to develop though. I didn't necessarily feel this rush of maternal live for my firstborn infant. I kind of liken it to a fascinated curiosity I suppose. Who was this new little person that they'd just placed in my lap and said she was mine? And FYI c-sections under general anaesthetic suck - just putting it out there!

But this...knitting, I never expected.

All of a sudden I cared about someone else more than I cared for myself. My eyes could have been hanging out of my head, body unwashed, not being able to remember when I'd last eaten a proper meal, but as long as she was safe, healthy, warm, well fed, dressed and happy then my world was OK and I had everything I needed.

No one told me that when she was sick I'd walk through hell barefoot just to get her well again.

No one told me about the anxiety that would keep moths the size of eagles fluttering in my belly and chest when something wasn't right.

Or how much, when there were surgeries and sickness and pain that I'd wish I could trade places and do it all for them instead.

Well I'm here to tell YOU. Those little bundles just grab your heart and soul and mind and they never, ever let go. Ever. They might be adults, with lives of their own and they still have your heart. It matters what happens to them. It matters when they're still so sick that they can barely sit up in bed, exhausted from the effort of trying to cough up a lung during the night and, in fact, throughout the previous three nights. It matters when they suffer a disappointment or a heartbreak or the frustration of trying to move forward but having to battle ridiculous government bureaucracy and red tape.

It matters, and will continue to matter. I know that now.

No one told me that one of the hardest parts is knowing the right time to take your hands off and let them work it out on their own. I wish I had've recognised that earlier. My own fear held them back. I know that now too. They had the potential to fly sooner. It was their mother that kept their wings from unfurling.

No one told me that parenting is a never ending field of discovery for the parent too; that when you become an adult you don't always feel like one. You're still learning, figuring it out on the fly. You make mistakes, sometimes big ones but you just have to get back up and keep working it out. Sometimes there are days where you just want to sob into your own Mama's chest and stop being an adult, even just for a few brief moments. And you realise that all along, your own Mama possibly had times just like this too.

I'm now way closer to fifty than I am to forty, my kids are all grown and yet they still hold my heart so tightly. It still matters that they are well fed, safe, healthy, happy. Their well being still takes precedence over my own.

I think that's the way its supposed to be.