I struggle to comprehend the fact that I am soon to be a mother of an 8-year-old boy. How did this happen? The curly locks and the language that only a mother understands have long gone. They have been replaced by a short back and sides and a boy whose knowledge can exceed my own. His chest has filled out and his hands match mine in size, his legs grow by the day, longer and leaner, he is strong, he has an abundance of energy and has an inquisitive mind. He is unique with thoughts of his own, he has a voice, a very loud one, he is no longer malleable, he does not do what I say just because I said it, instead he questions, he debates, he has made it a democracy without me even knowing.
Someone quoted on Instagram this week that the days are long and the years are short, this has never felt more relevant to me than it does right now, at this moment, this moment when I want to capture his perfect face and preserve it forever. I am afraid that I will forget, forget every intricate detail of my boy before he is taken from me into manhood when he will no longer declare his love for me, he will start to recognise how truly flawed I am. I want to savour his adoration for a little while longer. I want to hold him and make the years disappear with each embrace from my arms.
You spend most of the early years wishing the time away, wrapped up in the throes of monotony and exhaustion which can blinker you from fully appreciating the wonder within this new life that you have created. 8 years of parenting has brought many challenges, there were days I felt swamped, overwhelmed, unable to continue. The sheer enormity of the job in hand too much to bear but somehow through the night your strength and courage regained and you were able to wake rejuvenated and ready to start all over again. The resolve of motherhood has been one of the most astounding aspects for me, the person that I found myself to be, the one with copious amounts of patience and whose love does not know any boundaries. That person did not exist before, being a mother has expelled that from me. I am grateful motherhood has given me the opportunity to become this better version of myself.
It is ironic that you start motherhood in fast forward mode, but with each year that passes how you wish you could rewind the one before it is all lost in translation. My motherhood journey is in a transient state. I am still needed but the capacity is ever changing. There are perks, of course, he sleeps, he feeds himself, he can shower himself (with protest) it feels the teenager years are not a lifetime away anymore. Being the mother of a son is unchartered territory as most of what they do we do not understand, the nervous energy, the need to kick and touch everything, the speculative mind that overtakes rhyme or reason. There are moments of frustration and where the indifference is apparent, that is mirrored with moments of pure joy, the joy only a son’s laughter and toothy grin can bring.
The birth of my son 8 years ago was such a turning point in my life, it made me believe in life again. He was the family I had spent a lifetime waiting for, he gave me a chance to start again. He was my second chance and on the day I gave birth I also gave birth to a new version of myself. The child I was, I was finally able to leave her behind, she grew up, she was free to love again. All the years of pain led me to this place in time where I carried and gave birth to this beautiful being who was the right in a lifetime of wrongs, he will never know the magnitude his birth brought to my universe then and how he is still my universe now. Happy Birthday to my blue eyed boy 23/08/2009