One day, an open letter to my babies

Last night, you both slept so very poorly, you wanted to nurse all night long. I can’t really blame you, we’ve all been sick and you’re starving cause you can’t keep anything down. We were a sweaty mess of tears, tangled legs, arms, and completely messed up sheets. I needed to use the bathroom and every time you’d have fallen asleep and I’d try to sneak away you’d wake up, root for me desperately and cry as if your heart was breaking.


I found myself so frustrated and wishing you would just go to sleep already and STAY asleep. I finally decided to just run for the bathroom and tried to temporarily shut out the cries I heard intensifying from the bed.
I rushed back, my frustration at an all time high, and you both latched on frantically for what seemed to be the umteenth time that night. Then, both of you reached for me with tiny, sweaty little hands and grabbed on to mine, and you each a let out a loud sigh of relief upon the contact. I looked down at both of you, felt your bodies relax and the utter relief on your faces that you were back in my arms. And it hit me, hard. Right now, I’m literally all you need, all you want. In your mind, I am all powerful, the answer to everything, the omnipotent ruler of your universe. No matter what, you believe I can fix it, make it better. Right now, I am literally your entire world.


And at the same moment it also hit me, one day, so soon, this will change. You’ll become more independent, as you should. You’ll see God is omnipotent, not I. You’ll need me less and less, which is also how it should be. One day you’ll realize I am not all powerful, your world will expand and other people will become important. One day the sheets won’t be so sweaty and tangled with all these arms and legs, your little mouth won’t root and your little hands won’t reach for me anymore because you will have grown into your own bed and things will have changed. It will be quiet, oh so, so quiet.


One day you will have moved out and your own children will reach for you with their sweaty little hands and tiny mouths, and I will go to the bathroom at my leisure.
The only cries I hear will be memories in my mind, you will call me but it will be different.
And it will be a beautiful thing, we will celebrate your family and I will still be there for you, but oh, how I shall desperately miss being your entire world.


Some days it’s hard, and sometimes I get tired, and that’s ok. Parenthood IS hard. One day, it will happen to you and I hope I can comfort you and hold your hand again when you’re tired or need to cry, and all you want to do is pee in peace.
And I hope, with all my heart, above all else, one day you will know, how very much I love you, have always loved you, and will always love you, and that no matter how big you get, you’ll always be MY world.

 

Love,

Mommy

3 Comments


  1. // Reply

    I absolutely love This! This week I also realized that having to be out of commission from being my babies everything was the hardest thing in the world for everyone! Their cries to hold me and lay with me but fear they might hurt my wounds broke my heart. The immense heartbreak I seen in their faces, and outcry that was loudest I’ve ever heard made our little world seem like it was ending. But the greatest thing of all is realizing how much we, as moms are ever so loved more than we know on the regular. How much we matter, outside of being the primary caregiver and providing their needs. We are the core of our families. We are worth so much than we can ever imagine in these moments. It’s not easy to remember this every day but these moments, so precious, such good reminders of how much we are so loved. Thank you for sharing This! This makes me really love motherhood more than I already do!

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