Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Mushy Thoughts On Fear and Motherhood

Sometimes I think my heart may just explode. Like seriously thump right out of my chest from the intense waves of emotion that pulse through my soul when I look at this boy. I mean-- look at him.

Before I became a mother, I just couldn't see it. Couldn't picture it in my mind, or imagine what it would feel like. Sure, friends with kids always told me that there was "no feeling like it," and it would feel "different when it is your own." But I still didn't expect this. I didn't expect to be sitting at my laptop, in tears, not knowing what to do with all of these feelings.

We had a perfectly lovely morning. The truly best kind-- just him and me, marching around in our swimming pool with not a care in the world. He was in the best mood, and when we came back to our apartment, he ate all his lunch, and then went down for a nap without so much as a whimper of protest.

So why am I crying? Because it is all just so good. And that terrifies me. I'm a rookie mom, for sure, and at this point, we haven't dealt with much more pain and heartbreak than a busted lip and the ending of the pacifier era (which my dreamboat of a son hardly noticed). But I know it is coming.

The other day, Bo and Marty were playing on our bed, like they do almost every night. Bo lifts him up high over head and drops him down on a huge mound of pillows, strategically arranged to satisfy the highest of safety standards (mine). That kiddo is a real thrill seeker, I tell ya.

In response to being dropped from heights that must seem extreme to an almost-2-year-old, my son gets up and "pushes" his daddy off the bed. Bo may insert a bit of dramatic flair to this part of the routine. Round and round they go, dropping and pushing, dropping and pushing. It never seems to get old for either of them.

But that particular day, the timing was off by just a hair. Marty lunged to "push" his daddy off the edge of the bed before his daddy was in position to be pushed. The result was my baby boy pretty much catapulting himself over the side of the bed, and disappearing with a thud. I saw it happen. Before it happened, even. I knew, but couldn't stop it. As I watched him fly headfirst over the bed, not able to see the landing, I thought to myself, "he's paralyzed...his neck is broken..."

I ran over to him and looked down at his sweet, blue/red/green face, eyes and mouth open wide, but unable to make a sound. I scooped him up and blew in his face (because someone had once told me that this act makes them breathe. Wives tale? Whatever.), at which point he finally inhaled deeply and started screaming. He was fine. Scared, but fine.

I was able to hold it together long enough to make sure he was okay, but then I lost it. Tears flooded my eyes, and I felt sick. My mind refused to be still... it raced forward in time, without my permission, and imagined a day with a similar scenario, but a different outcome. Someday, it will be worse. Someday, he is going to feel real pain, and there will be nothing I can do to stop it.

These thoughts are not healthy, I know. Being afraid doesn't prevent the things you fear from happening. All it really does is prevent you from truly opening yourself up, as wide as you can go, and soaking up every last drop of these care-free moments life blesses us with. Oh how I pray that God will calm my mind, and allow me to trust in Him fully, not borrowing trouble, or letting fear steal one single second of joy from me and my boy...

But today, I find myself on the brink once again. Loving this little man-cub so hard that my mind spins to the things I can't control, but frighten me, nonetheless. Will my son get sick? Hurt? Heartbroken? Will he hate me one day? Will he have a proper length childhood, sustained by this gorgeous innocence I see in him today, even in a world where Miley Cyrus and her tongue are front page news? Will he ever really know his value, and how much he is loved?

I don't know the answers, but I do know Someone who does. And I know that God will be consistent and strong and gentle and wise, even when I am a blubbering mess worried about things "above my pay grade." Lord, take him, he's yours. You know what you are doing, and that is the only thing that gives me peace.

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous hand." Isaiah 41:10


Brad Denham said...

Believe me child, you have no monopoly of these feelings, being a mother, as I can attest, being a grandfather, I had those feelings for 3 girls (you being the first) and now 8 grandchildren, which I think, not only how blessed I am, but the dark thoughts that run through my mind, especially when on the ambulance and see the pain that possibly could be inflicted, with no fault of your own. Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding, but in all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path. Sound familiar, it should, because, since finding the Lord, these words have helped me through times, such as these. But one thing I can relate to, ie, Martmart falling headlong off the bed, I remember a day, when YOU my dear, went off a 3 ft ledge in the apt. complex we lived, and made a one point landing on your nose. The trip to the hospital was traumatic, but moreso, was the feeling of what people were thinking when they saw you with a big skid mark on the tip of your nose...(child abuser dad). But when you had Kawasaki's disease, you put our faith to the test, and we didn't have any at the time, we realized, you could be taken, and there was nothing we could do, but fight for you...thankfully, we won that battle, but I'm sure, it's because the Lord knew where we would be today, to share these moments, and knowing one day, we too, would fall before Him for His divine protection. Love Hard, Love Long, and never let them believe there ever is any doubt that you do Love him. Marty is blessed to have a mother who cares like you do...but your mother and I are equally blessed, to have a daughter, and grandson such as you two. We are also blessed, to have a son n law, who loves his wife and child, with total abandon...it's all we could ask for...Thank You Lord.

Anonymous said...

You are the best mother possible and he will always know he is loved! As are you.

Anonymous said...

You are the best mother possible and he will always know he is loved! As are you.

The Clauseys said...

This is a fantastic post! Know you are not alone in these feelings.