Monday, October 19, 2015
I love being a mom. It is the hardest and most wonderful thing I have ever done. That little man has changed my world forever. I love him.
What I didn't expect, was the pain and anxiety I feel each time I realize he is getting bigger. First, I packed away his newborn clothes, then I put away his 0-3 month clothes. Ouch. It was a similar feeling to putting away Christmas decorations, but with those, I can console myself in remembering I will be pulling them out again in less than a year. I don't know when I will see the clothes again, and my babe will never wear them again. The dreaded night we moved him to his crib to sleep, I wanted to go sleep on the floor next to his crib, but I stayed in my bed trying to be strong.
It is so hard to watch him grow, but it is also SO wonderful. He has started rolling, eating cereal, smiling, laughing, reaching, and he puts everything in his mouth. He observes the world around him. He responds to me and his daddy. The other day he reached for me. He reached for me! It was amazing. He loves to play with toys and "talk." He has the sweetest giggle and he can now put his binky in his own mouth. He is learning what his hands and feet can do. He gets cuter everyday.
It is wonderful, but I find myself worrying about the future. "How will I drop him off on his first day of Kindergarten?" "He won't be this size forever, he's changing!" "Will he visit me on Mother's Day when he's 40?" I can almost send myself into a panic attack. That is why I have hung a new sign in my house. It says, "The Best is Yet to Be." I tell myself this every time I start to worry about my little man growing and changing. "The Best is Yet to Be."
It's okay that I feel heart ache when he is growing, but I will strive to enjoy every stage and remember that the best is yet to be.
Friday, June 19, 2015
“Above all, never lose faith in your Father in Heaven, who loves you more than you can comprehend.”
Shortly after my baby was born, my friend brought me a frame with this quote in it. She knew I was struggling a bit with postpartum depression and came to lend me her love and support. While you might think this post is about postpartum depression, I am actually steering it in a different direction (although that topic is very worthy of conversation that will probably come in the future).
Ever since I was born, I have been taught that I am a child of God and that He loves me very much. The quote above has touched my heart, but I feel I have gotten a greater understanding of it since I became a mom.
One of the first nights we came home from the hospital, I was looking at my sleeping little boy and I had tears streaming down my face. When my husband asked me what was wrong, I responded, “Nothing, I just love him so much.” While I was still a bit hormonal, the love I feel for him is so real and so strong.
When I think of him and his little mind, it occurs to me that, similar to the quote above, he can’t even comprehend right now how much I love him. He knows I hug him, kiss him, feed him, and change his diaper. I pray he feels safe in my arms and feels that this person who is with him all day every day is someone who thinks he is very special.
Then I think of all the things he can’t comprehend yet.
He can’t yet comprehend that I carried him for 9 months and delivered him. He doesn’t know how many times I googled things to make sure I could take a certain medicine while I was pregnant or to make sure something that was happening to me was normal. He doesn’t know how terrified and excited both his dad and I were in the delivery room. He doesn’t know I counted down the days to his birth and doodled his name on post-it notes over and over again. He doesn’t know that the password to my computer was his name.
He doesn’t know that his dad and I went college and to work for years to prepare to earn money so we would be financially stable enough to welcome a little person into the world. He doesn’t know yet that I have dreamed of being a mom since I was a little girl.
He isn’t aware that I have called and visited his pediatrician several times to make sure he is developing the way he should. He doesn’t know that when he is in pain, I am in pain and wish I could take it away from him. He can’t comprehend the bittersweet feeling I have when I realize how much he has grown since we brought him home. He doesn’t know that the thousands of pictures that are taken of him are so we can remember and preserve how sweet and precious he is.
He doesn’t know that we pray for him every night. We pray he will feel our love and our Heavenly Father’s love for him.
He doesn’t know that we pay a bill every month towards our mortgage for the home that he lives in, the water in his formula and baths, and the electricity. He doesn’t know that after he falls asleep, we have a baby monitor to hear if he cries and make sure he is okay. He doesn’t know the planning that went into his first and middle name. He doesn’t know how much more carefully I drive ever since he was born.
He doesn’t know that there were millions of little pieces that needed to fall into place to bring him here: his dad and I getting married, both sets of our parents getting married, the grandparents, great grandparents, and the list goes on and on.
He doesn’t know that his dad and I have sacrificed some things just for him: sleep, vacations, free time. He doesn’t know that carrying him changed the way my body looks and I am trying to learn not to be self-conscious about it.
He doesn’t know that I think of his future constantly. One year, three years, twenty years. He doesn’t know that I yearn to keep him little while feeling so excited to watch him grow.
There are so many things my little man can’t comprehend yet. He has no idea how much his dad and I love him. It is the same with our Father in Heaven. We know He loves us, He sent His Son to die for us, and He created a beautiful world for us to live in. We know those things, but our minds can’t even comprehend HOW MUCH He really loves us.
What a lovely thought it is that such a magnificent Being cares about us more than we can even imagine.