You turned one month old in a hush only snowfall can create. I don't know why I am feeling so sentimental. Probably a mix of post-partum, Christmas and the crushing reality that this is the last time I will be the mother of a newborn. As I hold you, your head resting against my heart, I don't feel a sense of maternal serenity or ethereal calm. Instead, I feel panicked at the thought of losing you. Losing you to adulthood. You see, everyday that I get to know you is another day you move closer to manhood. How ironic that the more you become YOU the less you become mine. At what point does a boy or man stop needing his mommy? I still need my mom but is that a female bond strengthened by the shared experiences of motherhood? I always knew I would raise boys. But in raising only boys I think I miss out on a certain amount of softness or sentimentality. That is not to say boys aren't as sweet as girls, only that boys are expected to be firmer. We are breeeding warriors. I like being the mother of soldiers but does that mean in your bravery you won't need me later?
Raising children, you'll find, is about relinquishing control. Which is of course very hard for me. Not at first... in the beginning it's about setting boundaries, rules and routine. But sooner than you think it becomes letting your child fall down so he can learn to pick himself up again. I can't bear the thought of letting you fall or fail or not get your way. I look into your bright eyes and I see all the hope and possibilities stretched out for you. But is it ok if today I hold you as if there is nothing and nonone you need as much as me? You are so perfect and pure just like the untouched snow that has marked your one-month birthday.
5 comments:
Erika,
Your post today immediately brought to mind Alma 56:47-48. I'm pretty sure even though these sons were off fighting, they always needed their mothers.
And I think if we raise our sons to be strong warriors like the Army of Helaman, we can always count on them needing something from us, even if it is just our testimony of the Gospel.
I think about this all the time too. I think it's just the responsibility placed upon our hearts at thier births.
You got my teary nice an early today. Wow--how blessed we are to be mothers!
My Dear Erika,
I love reading your blog. As I told you, you make me proud of you, my son and myself. You also bring me back to myself at your stage in life.
This morning I was going to write you about your pole question. I was going to tell you that you neglected to offer the correct option, option three. But as I checked to make sure this was still current, I saw that you found that third option. The biggest change isn’t going from 1 to 2, or 2 to 3, it is as you said the “crushing reality that this is the last time I will be the mother of a newborn.” At this point all of you children’s lives are on a time line that goes in one direction. Each stage of their life with you has to slip away for the next one to come, and it goes to the dim twist of your perceptions, as it mingles with those of the others whose lives they touch, in the stories forever retold.
But here is some great news. When your boys are men, and their wives and their children reveal who they really are, you will see pieces of yourself that you planted in them, and there is where you will find the best parts of your life all over again.
Enjoy!
Lane
I totally know- raising that last child is somehow different. I feel sentimental about every last thing Phoebe does, knowing it's the last time of that age. How lucky you are to be raising those sons who you know will be good, strong boys with a good mother to guide their way. Boys will always love their mothers. I love those moments when you get to hold your children and catch a vision of who they are and who they will become. What a sweet post.
That was beautiful!
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