Becoming a mom for the first time
He didn't exist, then one day he did. Because of me. He was not even the size of a pea but my body changed the way it had been doing things for 24 years the moment it found out about him. I prepared for him, and he grew in me. I learned about him, and then I dreamed of him.
Becoming a mom changes you
At first he only existed in me. Then, he existed out of me. Because of me. I worked harder than I ever had to be able to see him, to hold him, to kiss him. They placed his small naked body on me and a new feeling took over. At first I wasn't sure what the feeling was. I would do it all for him, sacrifice anything for him. Selflessness....that was it. I guess I had never felt it so entirely before.
He was tiny. Then, suddenly, he wasn't. Because of me. Again, my body knew what to do and its' sole mission became to feed him. I nursed him and nursed him and nursed him. Some days it was all I did, and I watched his skinny legs become chubby and little rolls start to form on his arms. I felt proud when they talked about his big round cheeks.
In the beginning, he didn't know anything. Then, he began to know. Because of me. I taught him right and wrong. I kept him close and safe. I showed him the world, and I protected him fiercely.
It was easy to think he belonged to me. I had grown him, pushed him, fed him, and protected him. He was mine. It seemed natural to think I was in charge of his happiness, his spirituality, his outcome. But my body wasn't just taking over anymore. Being a mother was suddenly feeling less natural. I had completely taken on a role that I had no idea how to do. Each stage brought more questions and new feelings of failure. He was not just a baby any more. He was growing into a littler person. He was MY little person, and molding him just right seemed an impossible task. I started to feel afraid that he wouldn't become who he was meant to be. Because of me.
Becoming a mom, not Divine
In a fearful moment, I said a prayer of gratitude. It was then that it came to me. He was never mine. He had always been His. I was simply a guiding hand on his path back to where he was always meant to end up, with his Divine Creator. God was his Father and would be molding him with me, better than me. And the fear faded. I had the chance to be something special for him, but it was pride that wanted me to be everything for him. Humility reminded me whose he was. It gave me the chance to be just a mother, full of imperfect ideas, failures, and love.
I thought he belonged to me. Then I remembered he never did. Because of Him