On the Eve of Your Second Birthday

My sweet Will,

On the eve of your second birthday, I find myself overwhelmed with gratitude.  I am grateful for all the things one would expect me to be...your health, your sweet personality, your tender heart.  I am thankful for all the things, big and small that make you, you.  But I am most grateful for one simple thing...the lesson you taught me the second you were placed in my arms.  Seamlessly and effortlessly, you entered our life two short years ago and made our already sweet life even sweeter.  Our days became busier, but the busyness was balanced with overwhelming joy. My time with your brothers was shortened, but the missing was overshadowed by the gift of you. I believe a funny thing happens when a third child enters a family.  And while this is just my humble opinion, I must tell you that what I know for sure.  The third child just makes everything better.  Sweeter.  More joyful.  You did that, sweet boy.  You blessed us with more joy, more happiness, more love. But something else happened. You came bearing gifts to all of us, but you had one special gift just for me.  And though I know I can never make you fully understand what your gift has meant to me, on the eve of your second birthday, I would like to try. 

Motherhood.  You have your first child and you are a mess of insecurity and doubt.  You navigate through your new role with an overprotective intensity.  The fear of what could happen is all consuming and unfortunately that fear often robs us of our joy.  The fear shatters confidence and challenges all the books you’ve read and all the wise words you’ve heard from mother’s who have been where you now are.  It’s your first experience with a love that permeates every inch of your heart, a love that bores holes into your soul and leaves you vulnerable, scared and forever changed. Things fall by the wayside.  Relationships, responsibilities, life.  Because all you know to do is to love and protect.  And it takes time to learn that you will never be able to fully protect them and while that realization stings, it’s a realization that must happen.  Days pass and suddenly you move with more confidence as you accept the newness with wide eyes and an overprotective heart.  You are learning, and your teacher is the sweetest thing you’ve ever known.  There is simply nothing like your first.

Blessed.  Again.  God shines down on you and blesses this still new mother with another precious, tiny being.  You fall hopelessly in love the moment you see him because you think of your first child and you know just how wonderful this can be. There is no doubt.  Because you know... Yes it will be hard.  But, oh, it will be wonderful. And while the new mother is still fiercely overprotective, she walks with relaxed shoulders, fully aware of what she is capable of.  Her first born by her side as an ever present reminder of... I can do this.  Just look.  Look at him.  I can do this.  And now the struggle is not over fits of worrying about doing everything right, no now the struggle comes in the form of balance.  You know how to love and nurture.  Now you must learn how to love and nurture two little beings.   Your crave your newborn.  You fret over your toddler, desperately afraid he is getting lost in this new life.  You soon realize he will indeed be okay.  Because you loved him.  You loved him well.  And he knows it.  So you bask in the joy of that newborn, so much more aware of how wonderful it is this time.  There is no fear, just love.  Struggles to find balance and manage time effectively seem so easy compared to the constant worry of failure you felt as a new mom not so long ago.  You allow your heart to guide your steps and in doing so you realize that being a mother means simply that, listening to your heart and following where it may lead you.  And because you know these moments are fleeting and the time with this tiny being is so short, you breath in every moment.  You are a mother again.  And a better mother than before.  Because you are aware, fully aware of your blessings.  You are learning and your teacher is the sweetest thing you've ever known.  There is simply nothing like your second.

And then...
Surprise.  

Another blessing.

Fear.  

You learn you are expecting.  You will be the mother of three little ones.  Three.  And in waves it all comes back.  The fear.  The insecurity.  The doubt.  The things that stole your joy as you navigated the new waters of motherhood not so long ago.  Here they are again.  Taking from you what you’ve worked so hard to build.  You know what to do.  You know how to love.  You know your heart will show you they way.  You've learned so much.  Through tears and sleepless nights and unending sacrifice, you've paid the price.  You've earned this joy.  You’ve earned it and yet it so easily slips away.  Out of you grasp.  Right through your fingers.  And it wins.  For nine months, doubt wins.  And you are sad and defeated and lost.  So lost.  You love your first two children as you always have, but you can't escape the guilt of what you fear you are about to do to the life they know.  The life they love.  The life you love.  And then a miracle happens.  A beautiful boy, with soft dark hair and big round eyes is put in your arms.  And with his arrival comes another gift.  The return of what was lost.  It is given back to you.  By him.  The one you thought took it all away.  In a soft, warm package that smells like heaven and fits perfectly in the crook of your arm.  He gives it back.  During late night feedings in the stillness of a quiet house.  With cooing sounds and newborn cries.  In busy afternoons, with the weight of him on your chest and that moment his breathing becomes heavy and rhythmic. In those simple moments, he hands it back to you.  And your eyes meet his and you realize it was never really gone.   And as your four year old runs by, you hold your baby tighter.  Because you know he will be there, running by you in that four year old body, in the blink of an eye.  And when you look over to find your two year old sleeping sweetly alone on the couch, you rock your tiny one longer.  Because you know all too soon your rocking days will be over and he, too, will drift off to dreaming on his own.   You hold him closer, this perfect little being, the one who, just like his brothers before him, has taught you so much.  He is your constant reminder...Enjoy this. Breathe this in. Every second.  Because, soon, all too soon, it will be gone.   He is yours.  Your blessing.  Your gift to love and cherish.   A tangible, precious reminder to enjoy every single moment.  You are learning and your teacher is the sweetest thing you've ever known.  There really is nothing like your third.

Thank you, Will.  Thank you for showing me that busy days and frustrating moments are a small price to pay for finding a love like this.  A love that teaches me and fills every fiber of my being.  A love that overwhelms me and holds me accountable.  A love I'm sure I'll never be able to fully reveal to you so that you can understand what you mean to me.  So just know this, Will...Everything.  You mean everything to me.   Thank you for the special gift only you could give.  I love you.  More than you'll ever know.

Love,

Mama