When I began my blog twelve years ago, to communicate with my husband while he was overseas, I never expected to be looking back at my posts. I have come across many gems than I thought and not so much because of my prose, but gems in the stories that I am able to look back on. Now, I am a mother of four children, my husband has been home with us full time since 2012 and I have my MA in Professional Counseling. Things have changed a lot since then and having the eyes of wisdom while I read the words of a young mother has been priceless.
Post from 2008 in Kansas (age 24 with 2 young children):
I was unable to get sleep last night. I was thinking about my children and how much I love them. Before having children, I wasn't much for kids. I didn’t understand them and was much too young to care. Then I became pregnant with my son at age twenty. I remember when he entered the world and I looked down at him for the first time. I remember telling him, “I am your mom” and feeling an overwhelming feeling of love. For a while, I didn't think I could love another child like him, but then I gave birth to my daughter and it was like falling in love all over again. This miracle or motherhood was amazing to me.
While my husband is away, I have been both mother and father, realizing that I could never replace the real father in their lives. However, I have become to love motherhood even more. I take pride in knowing that I am the one who tends to their cries, who deals with them when they've misbehaved (though frustrating it can be). I'm the one who reads to them, furthering their knowledge. I'm the one who makes sure they get food in their tiny tummies and I'm the one who loves them like no one every could. Though there are times I want to bang my head against the wall or run like a mad woman in the streets because it all seems too much, I remember that I am the one who's allowed to complain because complain or not, I will always love them. I could never leave them. I could never not be their mother. By God, I could never imagine my life without their laughter, their smell, their hugs, their kisses or the joy they emit.
I remember what my mother once told me, "you may not have a perfectly clean house. After all, what’s more important, spending time with your children or a clean house?" I know the answer to that questions now. I know that memories will carry with them into adulthood and I want them to always remember that mom loves them.
In honor of my mother who is slowing leaving us due to Frontal Temporal Degenerative Dementia.
And to my mommy...thank you, for always being there even when you might have wanted to run screaming down the street. I love you, and I remember every wonderful thing you did for me.
I picture our son now, holding up his hand to reach me, wanting me to touch him. I love it, the look of wanting in his eyes. He’s the most beautiful gift I have ever been given. I think to the future when I’ll be old and weak. He’ll be strong then, stronger than me and I wonder if he’ll feel the same when I hold out my hand to touch him, wanting to feel him near. For now, I watch him sleep, when I leave the room, I say it, I tell no one that I love him so much. It hurts; I never thought it could hurt so much, to love another human being. The inability to get enough of him is overwhelming at times. It’s not enough; sometimes it’s not enough. I love him, dear God, I love him.