No one told me how quickly they would grow, how soon they would change, and how delightful each new discovery would become…seeing their hands for this first time; rolling over; sitting up; holding a toy; laughing. Every new achievement seemed as monumental as cresting Mount Everest…it was THE best thing that ever happened and the joyous news was recorded and shared with all.
No one told me how hard it would be to leave my baby the first time. How could they survive without me? They did, of course, but I was convinced they couldn’t as I took that first step away from their little hands.
No one told me how delightful it would be to finally be able to have a conversation with my child, and how every thought they had would amaze and intrigue me from the start. How could they be so brilliant? How could they be so funny? Where did they learn to see the world the way they did? Spectacular!!!
No one told me that watching a child grow would equally bring me the deepest of joys and the starkest of pains. Each new inch added to their height, each new skill added to their repertoire, each new ability added to their arsenal meant they had achieved something wonderful AND that they were a step closer to not needing their mom. Bitter and sweet.
No one told me that experiencing life through the eyes of my children would teach me so much I didn’t know about the world. I would learn to appreciate new things, be aware of new things, laugh at new things, fear new things, anticipate new things, avoid new things, mourn new things.
No one told me that my children’s joys would become my joys and that their sorrows would become my sorrows. To watch my children laugh, achieve, conquer, fall in love…their joy and happiness fills my heart like nothing else in the world. And to watch them be crushed, heartbroken, discouraged, overwhelmed…nothing pierces my heart as deeply as seeing my children in pain.
No one told me how paralyzing and painful it would be to have my children leave my home. How could I protect them if they weren’t with me all the time? Were they eating? Were they being safe? Did they remember to lock their doors? Were they making good or bad decisions? Who were they hanging out with? How was I supposed to survive without them being my world?
