I carried you for about nine and a half months. 

When you were born,  I would rock you to sleep all the time. I would sing to you and tell you how special you were. I prayed for God to help me be a good mom to you. I nursed you, bathed you, took you to your check ups, taught you to talk, walk, and eat solid food. You learned about your eyes, your ears, your mouth, your tongue, your knees, your fingers, your hands, your cheeks, your hair, and your lips. As you grew, I taught you your colors, your numbers, simple math, and animals. Later, you learned to play ball, swim, ride your bike, and even dress yourself. 

Kindergarten was hardest as I watched you walk into your classroom and I left you there. I missed my little sidekick. I watched as you developed strong social skills. And the journey continued. Elementary school was full of physical growth and academic growth. There were nights I’d wake up to clean you and your bed up as you threw up. There were many sleepless nights, worrying if you were ok when you got sick. 

Then came Junior High. That glorious age when hormones hit. I  wondered “where did my sweet child go?”. Brain fog, moodiness, tears, back talk… Oh my. But seeing you become “you” was priceless. High School quickly followed and it went by like a jet plane. There were so many joys of watching you as you played sports, or performed in an orchestra, or sang in choir. Your achievements, whether in art or in academics, amazed me. Teaching you to drive made me proud but I think I lost about ten years of my life! 

 Then school days were over. You were college bound, exploring life, more independent, and discovering your passions. But during these years I think my heart broke 1,000 times. You see, I saw you get hurt, I saw you make some bad choices, I saw you frozen and passionless at times confused about what you wanted to do. I lay awake crying and praying – hoping you were safe as you moved away. I had to let go. How could I let go of the tiny human I carried so carefully? How could I accept that I couldn’t protect you all the time? 

No one ever tells you the other side of motherhood. You can never be prepared for the long nights and the gradual letting go.  But then I realized, you were not just my child but I was trusted by God to raise you. You were His child. Trusting God and releasing you to Him brought peace knowing He is always for you and watching over you. 

I’m still in it and forever will be. Watching more from a distance but carrying you close in my heart. I see you become “you” more and more everyday. One day you too will have a child. On that day, you will see. The greatest blessing that could ever be is that tiny human that you now hold close to you.

And so the circle begins – again. 

(Photo of me with my oldest son, and pregnant with my second son while walking on the beach)