My first baby just turned 5 years old. I spent the first two weeks of his life soaking his jammies with tears. I was a wreck over the mere thought of him growing up. I remember sitting in the back seat of the car when he was three days old and my husband ran into the store. The second the car door shut, I bawled. I buried my face in his little tiny body and cried, "Don't grow up!!" He was three days old, and already his life was going too fast! By the time my husband returned I had managed to pull myself together, fearing that he would think I had gone off the deep end if he saw me crying over a three day old baby that was already too old. It felt like I loved him so much that it hurt. These little out bursts of emotion continued through his first year of life. When he turned two years old, we moved him into his big boy room. After tucking him in and kissing him goodnight, I laid on my bedroom floor and sobbed again, just as I had in the back seat of the car. How was my baby boy already tucked into a bed that was far too big for his little body?! How had red fire trucks replaced baby blue stars? How was I already packing away the sweet little crib bedding that I had so thoughtfully picked out for him when he was still in my tummy?
I always knew that having a child would change my life. I used to joke about all the movies we wouldn't see, the sleep we wouldn't get. I understood completely the limitations that a baby would bring. What I didn't comprehend was the change inside a mother the moment she holds her baby in her arms. It is a love unlike any other. It is a raw, visceral, protective love that transcends time, distance, and opposition. A love that brings tears on the first day of preschool when your baby walks away with his backpack that is almost as big as he is. A love that allows you to hold him in your arms at 3:00 in the morning as he is throwing up, with absolutely no thought of your own discomfort. A love that makes every trip without him exciting to come home from. A love that has you trapping wolf spiders in the corner of your garage into a mason jar and catching moths at dusk to feed the praying mantis. A love that keeps you smiling, that keeps you young, that keeps you flipping on the tramp and building villages out of sand. I love being a mother. It is my calling and my joy. I am convinced that these are the best days of my life, and I am aware that they are fleeting. Precious are the days when your children are in your home, giving them evening baths and slathering them with lotion and reading their favorite bedtime story. When you become a mother, your life is no longer yours. As Elizabeth Stone so eloquently put it: “Making the decision to have a child - it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ” I couldn't have said it better.
So fast forward to the age of 5. I thought I would be emotional and nostalgic. (I am always a little nostalgic, so nothing has changed there!) But I am actually so excited for my big boy! No more tears! I am learning that seeing him grow up is not as terrifying as I once thought. :) I love that we can have conversations, and we have the same sense of humor. I love that I can teach him things that my dad taught me; about nature and bugs and Velcro. And about being respectful and kind, and appreciating people for their differences. I love watching him learn and grow. I love that I am now the author of his childhood, just as my parents where the authors of mine. And now that he is 5, he might actually remember the memories that we are making in his book of life.
One last word of wisdom from a mother with a FIVE YEAR OLD!!! When people warn you that it will go fast, they are right. But with every stage comes even more joy and fulfillment. I wish "they" had told me that too!
Lindsey Marie
