I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately. Probably partially because Mason has been feverish, and waking up with momentary screams, awakening that protective instinct in me. And I fall back to sleep and toss and turn until I jolt awake again. It’s the screams, and I suppose it’s stress too– a lot of things in my life have changed.
It’s days like today when I feel the weight of motherhood bearing down on me full-force. Sometimes it’s difficult to comprehend the impact that the decisions your make for your own life have on the life of your child. Hard to even believe that your choices mean so much.
My mother once said to me that motherhood is a journey filled with guilt. At the time, I thought that sounded very pessimistic, maybe even downright depressing. How right she was, though. I’m not too familiar with guilt as it’s never been something that particularly plagued me or made me anxious, but there have been many instances in my short experience as a mother where I’ve felt it seep in and start nagging in the back of my mind.
When I was at home with Mason all the time, guilt was like my middle name. I felt like I wasn’t doing enough…never mind the laundry or the dishes, I felt like I wasn’t doing enough for him. “Talk to him!” all the books said, “It’s good for him!” So I tried to talk out loud all day. But I kept running out of things to say. How many sentences can you possibly make up for someone who doesn’t, can’t, give any back? I felt constantly cooped up and crazed– loony tunes and talking into thin air.
When Mason became more responsive and playful, it was easier…and then I got the breathing room that I had been aching for. I got a job. And now the guilt comes from an entirely different place. Instead of spending almost every moment with my son, I now get maybe two hours before he’s off to sleep on weekdays. I walked into his daycare to pick him up and he was taking steps! I was so excited that I was there to see it…and then she told me that he had already been doing it for a few days, and she hadn’t told me because she wanted me to see it for myself. I was glad that she let me have that moment, but guilt began tugging at me. I should have been the first, I thought, I’m his Mommy.
But I suppose this is just the first step of the letting go that all parents have to do at some point. Eventually children grow up, and while they may always need you in some shape or form, they certainly don’t need you forever for everything. I will unfortunately miss many more firsts…it’s just the way it is.
So I appease my guilt-ridden brain by reminding myself of the good things. Like Mason’s smile when I walk into his daycare to pick him up, because he knows that I’ll always come back. Or his wild excitement when I chase him around the house. Or the idea that maybe he adores his blankie so much because it reminds him of home and makes him feel safe. Or the pride I feel in knowing that I’m raising a strong, smart little boy who hopefully, through his experiences in not having me by his side at every single moment, will be able to find happiness in his own ability to be independent when he needs to be.
The greatest gifts you can give your children are the roots of responsibility and the wings of independence. – Denis Waitley
travels through motherhood 