Beyond Babies

Sometime in the year 2011, my title changed. I was no longer the mom of an infant, baby, or toddler. We graduated from diapers, pacifiers, sippy cups, and (sadly) naps. We packed up the "does not contain small parts" toys and shipped them to the attic. We also began to give things away. At first it was just a few baby clothes. Then we bit the bullet and said goodbye to infant seats, high chairs, play mats, and swings. While I can't cite one moment or great pronouncement, sometime in the year 2011 the decision was made. There would be no more babies. Sometime in the year 2011, I became the mother of children.


It doesn't seem to be a great distinction. Unless, that is, you are actually a parent. And then the distinction is enormous. These two human beings that were created from my own body, that spent years of their lives completely dependent on me, are becoming their own people. People separate from me. And, as with all big life changes, this is bittersweet.


The bitter being, of course, the letting go. Letting go of the special, precious time of those first three plus years. There really are no words to describe that time. Either you are a parent and you know... or you don't. On some days, the bitter taste of letting go can stand in the way of the sweet. On melancholy evenings, you can get caught up in the idea of never again. Those are scary words. Never again. I will never again feel a baby move inside of me. I will never again look into my child's eyes in the first moment of life. I will never again fall asleep with my child sleeping in my chest. I will never again watch them say first words, take first steps, or tell me they love  me for the first time. Those words, never again, weigh us down. Weigh us down physically with still cameras, video cameras, scrap books, and cell phones. Weigh us down emotionally with fears, sadness, worry, and regret. The bitter can be very bitter.


What gets forgotten sometimes is the sweet. I believe the reason for that omission is because of a dirty little secret we don't want to admit to ourselves. It isn't just letting go of our dear sweet babies that is so hard. We also hate letting go of control. Letting go, coming to terms with never again, means that we are no longer in control. These little people are making their own decisions. We don't get to just sit and hold them anymore because they won't let us. Tantrums and terrible two-ness aside, we start with unconditional adoration from our babies. We walk on water, we ARE their world. And that feels good. When these babies begin to turn into people, we start to turn over control. No, actually it is wrenched out of our hands by these strong little people. That feels terrifying. By taking pictures and video, by documenting every moment, we try desperately to regain some of that control. Which is fine, as long as we don't let that make us miss the sweet.


So what is the sweet? Precisely that which is so bitter. The letting go of control. Watching these little people we created grow into independent human beings is scary. Trusting them to make their own decisions is terrifying. Standing back and letting them fail... well, again there are no words. But these moments are also breathtaking, awe-inspiring, spectacular, and wondrous. If you can come to terms with the letting go, the never again... then your vision is clear enough to see the moving forward and the never before. That is the sweet. 


So, that is inspiration for my New Year's resolution this year. Not to lose 10 pounds (though I'll take it) or to exercise more. My resolution is to focus on both the bitter and sweet and appreciate them for what they are. My resolution is to slow down and think about what is happening and enjoy it instead of trying to control it. My resolution is to both let go and look ahead. My resolution is learn to live as a mother to children, not babies. To realize that means I have more of myself back, and to decide what I want that "myself" to be. There is no goal, no plan. Just life. Happy New Year.