The thing no mother says out loud

I was having an hour long gab fest with a girlfriend of mine yesterday over coconut water and kettle corn before we picked up our sons from school. During our conversation about just how fucking hard it is to raise teenage sons, she uttered the words. She said the thing I have said under my breath, to myself and only to my husband or very close friends on very rare occasions. She spoke the words that were already on my lips for me when she claimed, "If I had known how hard this was going to be, I'd never have had kids." My eyes widened and I took her hands and said, "YES!!!! Thank you so much for saying that! I feel it sometimes and I think I am the only mother who has the nerve to say it out loud." It was like a wave of relief poured over me as she shared her stories and I nodded in agreement, then I shared mine and she did the same. The consensus: This shit is TOUGH.

Before you start throwing stones thinking I don't love and appreciate my child, hold up. I would give my life for him. I love him so much it hurts. He's one of my favorite people to hang out with. And, this is the true stuff that we need to be able to say as mothers. The club we belong to is full of goodness, baby smells, giggles, and growth charts, and there is a high price to pay for being a member. I am very aware that well meaning people want to jump in during tough parenting times and remind us all how "worth it" it all really is. One can barely utter a word of displeasure with the role of being a parent without being told things like, "Yes, it's challenging, but the rewards always outweigh the difficulty," or "Well, at least you were able to have a child, you are so fortunate to be a mother, what an honor." And up until recently, I would have agreed... mostly because agreeing sounds better, is well received and makes me feel like less of an asshole.

Sure, I could take the high road, the "and" instead of "but" approach. I could say that everything about motherhood is a privilege and a joy. I could only use positive, upbeat and motivational words to describe it all. And I'd be a gigantic liar. 

My truth is that it's not always worth it. There are many days when I think to myself, "What the fuck was I thinking?!?" Days when I really get that I do not know what I am doing... at all. Days when I mourn the loss of my younger, more vibrant self, who gave up many of her dreams because frankly single motherhood in a city as brutal as LA doesn't leave much room for dreaming. I think of all the things I had hoped to do with my life, my art, my music, my self and how they all got put on hold for the last 16 years so that I could raise my child, send him to a good school, juggling between him, his needs, school, homework, play dates, sports, piano, injuries, sickness, all of it while working full time and being alone for most of it. And he still needs me now more than ever. And I have some sadness and yes, even some resentment of how much I gave up and how, in truth, I'll never be able to reclaim it. There are parts of me - possibilities, opportunities - that will never be here again. And the way I got through it was to keep telling myself that I asked for this, that I committed to it and that my son is my first priority and so it is. I had no choice, really, as putting him first is who I am. And, as the product of a family where I was put last much of the time, I wanted to give my son what I never had. Like so many of us.

And, I have made him my top priority for most of the last 16 years. There have been moments that were just about me, yes, of course, but I have absolutely put his needs well before mine for most of our run together. And, it's the only way I would ever do it. And I will continue to do so because I must. Because he's my life's biggest mirror, challenge, and growth. Because even though my Nana told me once of the intensity of being a mother, and how it was a lifetime of worry, I did not hear her and I pushed to have a child anyway. Because I had no idea about what I was really signing up for all those years go when I endured the pain of 5 pregnancy losses, including the death of a baby girl in late pregnancy, the trauma that surrounded every aspect of my pregnancies and birth experience. During all of it, all I could see was the baby I wanted to love. I had no clue that I would find myself, only 3 years later, a single mother with little to no support and even less of a clue about how to even BE a mother. I had no parents of my own, and no other role models for how to raise a child. I only knew I would do it with love. I was so naive.

And I have done my best. I have given, and given more. I listen, I cheer him on, I support him, I guide him, I offer input, I laugh, I cry and I set boundaries. There are days I look at my son and I cry at how beautiful he is, what a gorgeous human being he is and how much I love him. It's exquisitely painful, loving a child. And I question myself constantly. There is rarely a day that goes by I don't second guess myself as a parent. And, I am in it for life. There is no escaping the bone deep worry that parenthood brings. I lay awake at night, worrying over my son's well being, and wondering what I have done to cause him irreparable damage, and what I can do to be a better parent.

I look for guidance, sometimes I find it, sometimes I am still here, alone, wondering where the fuck the manual is and why my copy got lost in the mail. I want so much for him, I want his life to be better than mine. I want to see him fully expressed, joyful, radiant, happy and satisfied. And so I do all I can each day to help make that a reality. And it's not easy. And, I simultaneously mourn the loss of my self - the self that never realized I'd be loving another person so much more than myself, and literally be burdened by the pain of knowing that no matter if he has a shorter life, or if he lives to be a very old man, I will never be able to be free of the piercing love and concern for him and his life - his safety, his happiness, his well being. I imagine even after I have passed on, somehow my spirit will be engaged with his for eternity.

And I believe he's here for something incredible. We all are. And I can see he has so much to offer. He is kind, bright, aware, thoughtful, funny and good. And it is an honor to be his mother. Yes. And it's mentally, emotionally and physically exhausting at times. And it's beautiful. And I chose it, whether I knew what I was choosing or not. And so it is. And, I love him. I would step in front of a bullet for him without a second's thought. But that doesn't mean I don't question my decision, or at times feel regret over what I could have been, had I not chosen motherhood. It's not easy to say, but it is the truth. It's my truth. I understand that there are women I love who, at this very moment, would give anything to have a child. And I honor them. It's full of joy and beauty and truth and light and incredible lessons. And, I honor myself by acknowledging both sides of it. Of course, I could not imagine what my life would be life without him in it. When I look back at our years together, it's incredible, all of the wonder and magic that motherhood has offered me. That, and the fact that it's so challenging are both true at once.

My son is quite literally the most important person in the world to me. He is my chosen priority, my life's greatest creation,  and I don't feel that being open about how tough it can be diminishes that. It's all part of the crazy, gorgeous mosaic of my life. And as sons go, mine is pretty amazing. I hope I am doing right by him.




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