Mommypants Moments – I am ready
by Cheryl, posted on February 13th, 2011 in Mommypants Moment
I am excited to bring you today’s Mommypants Moment, written by the talented Julie Gardner of By Any Other Name. I am relatively new to Julie’s writing but I know I have found a kindred spirit and I’m thrilled to share her words with you today.
For thirteen years I’ve found myself saying, “I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry for rolling my eyes. And heaving a sigh. For wishing my children would be quiet.
I’m sorry for expecting my daughter to love reading and my son to love team sports. For requiring more from her than kindness; more from him than originality.
I’m sorry for sometimes imagining they were never here and then again hoping they might never leave.
I’m sorry they cannot crawl inside me and know the vastness of my love for them. That on the outside, I sometimes get it wrong.
I’m sorry I ever let my babies cry themselves to sleep.
I’ve tried to pinpoint the moment I knew I was the right mother for these children. The moment I proved my worthiness. But I can’t help thinking motherhood is an ongoing battle. That sometimes, I’m my own worst enemy.
It is too soon. I am not ready.
Our first baby was unplanned. Not unwanted, but conceived before I’d written thank you cards for our wedding gifts. Still. I was hopeful. I dreamed of holding my bald-before-blond, blue-eyed baby girl. I imagined forgiving her for making me so very tired.
Instead, my son came early. Already impatient with me. With life. He was wrinkled and red, a shock of black hair protruding from a skull still pinched and molded by our first separation.
It is too soon. I am not ready.
When the nurse told me we were released, my words tumbled over each other.
“We can’t leave,” I said. “He’s crying.”
“Babies cry,” she said. I was not comforted.
We placed him in his nursery still strapped into the car seat. We huddled in our dark bedroom wondering. Is this what we’re supposed to do? It did not feel right. We moved him into our bed, a tiny squirming bundle set between us.
“I can’t believe my parents loved me this much,” I said. I stroked his black hair, wondered where it had come from. “I don’t ever want to be away from him.”
He can stay here, we agreed. For tonight.
So when Jack was eight weeks old, I taught him to cry himself to sleep. I nursed him. I swaddled him. I put him in his crib. I let the water run in our shower so I would not hear him. He protested for three nights. On the fourth, he slept.
And I worried I had gotten it wrong again. That at two months old, my baby believed I would not be there for him when he needed me.
It is too soon. I am not ready.
So we cried and smiled together. We were by turns both joyful and afraid. And when we welcomed his bald-until-blond, blue-eyed sister Karly, she was patient. With me. With life.
This time, I thought, I will get everything right.
Except I didn’t.
And after thirteen years, motherhood still feels like one long string of mistakes.
Love for my children crowds almost every part of me. But in the empty spaces, other emotions sneak in. Doubt. Disappointment. Guilt. Frustration. Mother-love is supposed to be unconditional, instinctive, perfect.
And yet.
Today I’ll roll my eyes. And sigh. Wish my children would be quiet. I’ll be annoyed at the clothes piled on Karly’s floor, at the toothpaste smeared in Jack’s sink.
But I will also be awash with love for them. I’ll try my best. I’ll teach them to say ‘I’m sorry,’ too.
I will listen.
And if I hear my babies crying themselves to sleep? I will wrap myself around them in the darkness of their rooms. I will stay until they know they can trust me to be there for them always.
In that moment, I will know.
It’s not too soon. I am ready.
Tags: By any other name, I'm sorry, Julie Gardner, mommypants moment, this motherhood stuff is hard







julie gardner Reply:
February 13th, 2011 at 11:16 pm
Thanks for the kind words. Lucky son and lucky mama!
julie gardner recently posted..Today call me julienancy
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