I have an announcement to make. The maternity clothes have left the building. I repeat: the maternity clothes have left the building.
I was actually happy to see them go. I love my babies, and I had pretty easy pregnancies, but I did not love being pregnant. I loved the miracle of it, but towards the end I was very, VERY uncomfortable.
I think God intended for us to be that uncomfortable, because if we were not THAT uncomfortable no one would volunteer to go into labor. But once you reach a certain level of misery, you kind of look forward to labor.
While pregnant, I could keep my babies safe. I was able to keep them with me.
But once outside it became more difficult to keep them safe. I did everything I could do as a mom to protect my babies. But then, my babies had some nerve to grow up and start school.
Dylan’s first whole week of kindergarten I cried every morning. He finally looked at me that first Friday morning and said “I come home every day!
You can stop crying.” I may have stopped crying, but I didn’t stop worrying.
Having my children away from me is like handing my heart over to the world and saying “Here ya go!”
I have worried about each child at different times, and for different reasons.
But just as soon as I am done worrying about one, I start worrying about another one. I think “Mom” is a code for worry and guilt – but guilt is a topic for another day.
I worry that someone will harm them, injure their spirit or be just plain old mean. Even worse, what if they are the mean kid?
In my head I know that our goal as parents is to raise well-adjusted adults. And if their mom is following them around trying to keep every “not nice” person away from them, they will not become well-adjusted adults. They just become adults who need lots of therapy. I cannot afford college and therapy, so I will have to let them out into the world.
Alone.
I don’t have to like it, I just have to do it.
Just like I didn’t like being uncomfortably pregnant and not seeing my feet for months on end, I understand that if I want the end result of happy, well-adjusted adults, I have to do the labor.