Well, it finally happened. Nearly 9 months of casting a watchful eye on his every move. Filing paper thin baby nails gently, so as not to cut a tiny finger. Combing out the tangles with conditioner and tug-free care. Laying down padding to shield a little head from landing on unforgiving surfaces.
And the worst part? It was all in my hands. Literally. A few days ago, while trying to get Atlas’s snowsuit on his writhing and wriggling body, I accidentally zipped a bit of his skin. He cried for a few minutes and moved on. I, however, am still crying inside because I am clearly the worst mother in the history of the universe.
Ok, so I’m not SO dramatic about the experience, but it was, indeed, a moment of parental growth. For me, creating a family–bringing this amazing third member into what has been a duo–has been filled with more joy than I thought possible. Like “first-kiss-bubbling-champagne-fireworks-across-a-northern-light-filled-sky-specked-with-diamond-unicorns-and-warm-cookies-and-that-green-flicker-of-light-before-sunset” kind of happiness. It’s completely indescribable and so incomprehensibly beyond what I or anyone could ever explain.
It’s also filled with sharp, cold fear. Sure, you’ve always known that life is out of your control…but now you realize that this is also true for this brand new person that you’ve only just met, yet love more fiercely than you’ve loved anything. You cling to the things that you can protect them from because what you can’t is a terrifyingly vast ocean of possibility.
And then you remember that you don’t want them to learn to live in fear. You want them to forge ahead into the world, viewing the unknown as opportunity rather than danger. Discovering instead of hiding. Allowing intuition to guide him someday when mama and daddy let go of his hands.
Next time, I’ll hold him close when he gets a little cut or bruise, then I’ll put him back down and let him move beyond it. I’ll reassure him it will all be ok…and I’ll know that for now, yes, it will.
I don’t think I could have said this any better, the really life struggles but everything oh so worth it, being a mom is awesomely amazing.
William is 18 mo old now, running around like crazy, and it is still so hard for me whenever he bumps his head or falls and scrapes his little elbow. But I know that it’s what kids do.
And I know exactly how you must have felt being the one to hurt him. One time when he was about 6 mo old we were just laying down and nursing. I was playing on my phone and he was falling asleep. I went to set the phone down or something and I dropped it on his face! I felt like the worst mother ever.
Well I feel your pain. My son is almost 3 1/2 and he got in the way while opening the car door and it hit him in the head. He cried for a minute tops but I still 3 hrs later feel awful about it!
With time it gets easier… well, not really. I cry so much when my little man gets hurt, he’s 4.
About 3 months ago I accidently closed the bathroom door on his little fingers; he had a good cry and bled like crazy, but I was broken. A hospital visit and a xray later, he was perfectly fine, just very bruised little finger tips. It broke my heart so much. I held him ever so tightly and did everything I could to comfort him. At one point however, he said to me, “mommy, I’m okay. I will be okay”, and thats when I knew everything was okay. Things happen, but little incidents like these make our little men more aware, more cautious, stronger. But as a mother I too am more aware, more cautious and stronger.
Atlas is such an adorable little guy. You and Claudio are doing great.
My boys are almost 6 and 9. I have been there SO MANY TIMES. And it never gets easier. They’ve fallen off the bed as babies, I once kicked my oldest in the head getting off the couch and he fell face-first into the hard spanish tile below, clipping hangnails just too close to the skin… thankfully were their mommas and they will always forgive us and love us, even through our mistakes. <3