All of Me


In response to me complaining about having to go dairy free for Pascal, a friend of mine said something along the lines of “Our children will ask us to give up many things, it doesn’t stop at just a few, there will always be something else…but that is why we are here”
From the moment you came into the world, and let’s be honest even before that when I carried your tiny forming body in my womb, you had all of me. Jesus, he has my soul, Patient husband does have my heart, but every earthly comfort and bit of myself left is yours, Pascal.

You took the rest of my heart
you take most of my attention
you took my figure
you took my career
you took my time
you took my last nerve
you took my energy
you took and will always take my sleep
you took my delicious dairy filled meals and desserts
you took my ability to concentrate, or remember anything
you took my clean apartment
you took my free moments to create things
you took my free moments for anything
you took my pride as I will smell your booty anywhere anytime for poo
you took my ability to buy myself things, everything I buy now is for you
you took my money
you took my favorite TV shows timeslots
you took over my bed
you took over literally every part of my old life as I knew it.
But you give me so much more.

I am your mother now.
You gave me that Identity.
You gave me a heart so full it could burst
you gave me the cuddles I never knew I needed so much
you gave me smiles and wiggles and coos
you gave me strength I didn’t know I had
you gave me great purpose in life
you gave me joy
you gave me a life of direction and purpose
you gave me the most difficult and hallowed career there is: being left in charge, by God, of shaping a human life and helping them grow.

I know all too well the giving never ends, but neither does the receiving.  Each stage of your life, Pascal, molds mine, and we grow together, aging at the same time and learning from each other. I will pull your little will like taffy and you will roll out my patience like dough and we will refine each other…even though I’m sure your little mind will know nothing of what you’re actually doing for a long time.
Oh, does anyone know what their mother gave for them to live as they do? I’m sure I never knew until I started having myself broken down for another life, the sacrifices my mother and other mothers made.
Another friend said “Can you believe mother’s have given this much effort since the beginning of time!? It’s amazing the human race continues.”
God gives us just enough strength to get through every day…and then the next day we start over again.

Eventually, after enough time passes, don’t we always forget? The sacrifices really weren’t so big as we look at them fade in our rear-view mirrors, and in 25 years when our children ask us about themselves when they were little, we may even have a hard time remembering what it was like.
I look forward to that day….to the day of not being able to remember well the pain of petty sacrifices, because that means that my child will no longer be a child. Like an artist sees their paint become a painting, so will I see God’s little boy Pascal become a man, and I will be in awe of the work. I’m just the paintbrush, but oh how glorious it is to be part of such creation, that is of a human life.
My looking forward to the future  is not to say I am wishing away this time of sacrifice, no, on the contrary. I welcome each day of his babyhood and subsequent childhood. I want to stare into his blue eyes, and feel his fuzzy head, and let him hold my finger with his tiny hand as he fills his belly from my chest, and help him reach for his new found toes as long as God allows me, because it’s all golden to me. Even in the moment he is screaming because I got him over tired and I’m on my last nerve and want a nap myself, I don’t wish it away. As the synapses connect in his brain one after another during his restful sleep and he becomes more and more of a boy and less of a baby, and I see it. Two weeks ago he never stuck out his tongue, now all he wants to do is that and to smile at me. Time moves fast enough on its own for me to need to wish it along. I aim (failing often though) to be present every day. To be fully present and fully thankful in the giggles AND in the screams, in the wakeful nights and in the restful ones. Thankyou, God for the opportunity to sacrifice, to know what it truly means to be a mother. Help me to be present, and thankful every day. Thankfulness begets joy.

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One comment on “All of Me

  1. I think you should take photos of every moment of Pascal’s life. This might sound like sarcasm, but I assure you I’m sincere. Then, I can make a flipbook and watch it all come to life.

    It was just pointed out to me that a video would suffice. Sigh, I *guess* if that’s the route you’d prefer, I’d be willing to look at that too. :)

    I miss you!!

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