On The Intensity of Motherhood
I watch him from the window, as the sun goes down and supper cooks, a brief quiet moment in my day. This is his daily ritual, with bright blue snow pants and the eyes of his papa he heads out to soak up cold air and shovel snow. And as I watch him I stand in disbelief.
How could one so helpless become one who thrives on work? How could one who needed me without ceasing become someone who needs me to let him go rather than hold him close? How can he be reading and writing and asking me heart-stopping questions about death and eternity?
Every single second of motherhood has been an experience more intense than any I have ever known on this earth… overwhelming joy, abundant fear, the most physical and emotional pain I have ever felt, an impending sense of the fleetingness of time.
He once felt like my heart existing outside of my body… toddling his pudgy legs away from me, one heartbreaking step at a time. He is now his own man and my heart bursts with something I am not sure there is a word for. Is it love? Is it gratitude?
Does every mother stand at the window with tears running down her cheeks as she watches her baby grow up?
And yet he is not mine. He has never been mine.
That thing that fills my heart until it might burst that has no word… perhaps I have seen the grace and sovereignty of God through the eyes of motherhood.
“Does every mother stand at the window with tears running down her cheeks as she watches her baby grow up?”
Yes.
Beautiful post, Shannon!
Perfect. Description.
Well put. I have always tried hard to be in the moment with my kids, not getting caught up in either “when will this phase end?” or “why are they growing up so fast?” But at the moment one is 4 (going on 20) and the other is 2, and I feel like something is ending. As an early childhood educator, 2-4.5 was always my favorite age. So every time my four year old masters a new skill, like writing her name or spelling words on her own, I am filled with a feeling of wonder of course, as any parent is, but also a feeling that I’m loosing something. But I love the point you make at the end, and I think it’s something most parents often forget- they are never ours to start with.
And I am not a terribly religious person, but I have always felt I got a glimpse of God when looking into my child’s face.
Is there anything else to say? You said it all just right and I still have tears, especially as I think about my toddler getting bigger and bigger every day.
Just came to your blog for the first time, read this post, and am overwhelmed with the truth you communicate. My daughter is only one year old, but I already have a daily taste of this as she delights in growing more independent. She is my great joy and true heartbreak, all wrapped up in the sweetest angel body!
I love the words that are being practiced… Bacon, Lard, Jars… only from a mom that teaches her children about nourishing foods. 🙂
waggie – haha I didn’t even notice it until you said it. so true.
A beautiful snapshot of motherhood. My youngest has just turned 11 months and as I hold him and pray that he be an amazing man of God one day I wish that these baby days would slow down just a bit so I can adore this amazing gift from God for a few moments longer. (And now I have the overwhelming urge to go nuzzle his sweet little head.)
It is true. Every last word. Just today I experienced this. I have been a lot lately. It is a mix of overwhelming joy and sorrow. The realization that, yes, one day he will be out on his own and how much I will miss my baby. You just made me cry! Now off to send this to every mom I know so they can whell up a bit too!
Thank you for writing this feeling so beautifully. I cried as a read your words. Motherhood is truly an incredible, heart breaking and opening journey.
Very eloquently stated! And, yes — I think mothers everywhere watch from the window with tears in our eyes or running down our cheeks as our children grow up. Just wait until your little man drives off in a truck to go to work or to college or wherever . . . very hard!
Ah, been having the same thoughts lately but my boy is almost 15 wanting to spend more time away from family and more time with friends. Your thoughts are so true.
This is so unbelievably true. As someone else said, my child just turned one and I am amazed at how capable, funny, and intelligent he is becoming (already) and can only imagine how this will continue as he grows. It is exactly as you described – “overwhelming joy, abundant fear, the most physical and emotional pain I have ever felt, an impending sense of the fleetingness of time.” I am constantly amazed at the scope of emotions he makes me feel. Thanks for sharing. What a beautiful post!
That was beautiful. I felt the same way with my baby who is 22 yrs old now.
I pray that every mother DOES feel that. Your words are beautiful! You spoke the heart of many. God bless you.
What a beautiful post! So true for me as well…brought tears to my eyes!
My oldest is four and a half. He hardly fits on my lap anymore, his legs and arms long and gangly. Sometime I still carry him around, even though it hurts my knees, making this terrible grinding noise. My husband tells me I need to stop carrying him, but I can’t… time is running out. I’m clinging to these moments as long as I can. As an infant and toddler, he never liked to be cuddled, always pushing me away. I cherish these fleeting days, when he will sit contentedly on my lap, even if he is spilling off…
Yes, I know this feeling well. I have ten kids and the oldest turning 17 gives me heart palpitations. It goes all too fast…
Wonderful insight, our hearts walking around on the outside of our bodies…..so true.
When the kids were little people always told me to cherish these moments, they grow up so quick. I never fully believed that, now I’m there and it seems way too real. The boys are teenagers now and the time flew by….where did the years go? I am still, “watching them from the window”……I hope and pray I’ve given them the love and encouragement they need to prosper in this life, in their walk with God and given them the wings they need to “fly the coup” and survive in this crazy thing we call adulthood.