My Sweet Baby Boy

When I was a little, little girl, only 2 years older than my sweet baby boy is now, I wished when I grew up to be a wife and mommy. Those dreams came true....and let me tell you, it is nothing like I thought it would be and more than I thought it would be EVERY SINGLE DAY!

When I finally became pregnant and my belly got bigger and bigger, I would sit in my sweet baby boy's room in the glider and rock, holding my belly, looking at his pristine room and dream of what it would be like once he was born.

I dreamed of cuddles and quiet nights rocking and nursing. I dreamed of sweet baby coos and soft cheeks. I dreamed of  the sweet smell of baby. I dreamed of him getting bigger and being in a toddler bed and running out every morning with a smile yelling mama, daddy! I dreamed of us all playing in the living room together happy and content.

Cuddles and quiet nights rocking were more often filled with flailing and screaming and nursing until I was blistered and he was in a coma and I could gently lie him down and scurry to bed wondering when I would ever get real sleep and when would he ever stop being angry at me for a: not nursing him exactly the moment it crossed his mind. b: thinking I had a right to sit down period. c: mostly ruining his life in general for removing him from my womb. More often than not, if he ran out of his room in the morning it was screaming MAMA! I WANT MAMA! And not in a pleasant way. When we all played in the living room, I'm not sure content is the word I would use to describe the toys flying and play-doh being squished into the carpet and the poor saint of a dog being tortured.

My sweet baby boy then got a little older....

I would rather chew my own arm off than see the tears slip down his face because I hurt his feelings when I have to discipline him. The first time he said, "Sorry, Mama" after I yelled at him for getting into something he was not supposed to be into, I sobbed in my kitchen. I wanted to die knowing I had hurt my sweet baby boy's heart.

Now it probably sounds like I have a lot of dashed broken dreams, right? The answer is no!

The feeling I got the first time our eyes locked and I knew that sweet baby boy was going to give me a run for my money as his mama, it was indescribable. The first time he smiled at me, I thought I would melt. The first time his soft sweet little voice uttered I Love You, Mama, I thought my soul actually cracked. When he crawled at 5-1/2 months, I was in awe. When I really started to see what a sweet, sensitive little soul he had, I thought I would bust with pride.

This job I have been given to be this sweet baby boy's mama is not the rainbows and sunshine I thought it would be. However, it is more beautiful than any rainbow I have ever seen, and warmer than any sunshine I have ever felt.

The nights that I go to bed and cry because it was a hard day spent battling each other, I know it was only hard because I fought the good fight to be the best mama I could be. Trust me, some days I am pretty sure he wins, but I fight the fight.

When he wakes up in the middle of the night and wants nothing but to lie on mommy, I remember that soon enough he will not want to do that and so I lie there with his sweet little face against mine and only barely notice how uncomfortable it really is. When I am trying to cook dinner and 8 other things since Daddy is now home and taken over and he falls and hurts himself and wants only mommy to kiss his owies even though Daddy is right there, I try to remember not to be frustrated. It will only take a second to kiss the owie and stop the tears, but soon enough, my kisses won't heal what is broken.

If I could wrap him up in my arms and just sit with him in that same glider I sat in with him in my belly, and rock for the next 10 years, I would. But, I cannot.  I will, however, continue to sit in it with him until HE decides those days are done. And while we sit and rock, I will hold that sweet baby boy on my lap and dream my dreams for him knowing someday I will have to let him go be the man we are raising him to be. And that, is the true love of a mama.