The Truth About Motherhood

9:20 AM Katy 8 Comments

Or: Cystic Fibrosis still sucks.

Once upon a time on this blog I laid out the bare naked truth about single parent dating. Well here it is on motherhood.
My youngest niece had her first birthday and it was a rainbow affair. My SIL made this rainbow cake I've seen all over Pinterest - it was perfect! Not long afterward they got their latest cultures back from the clinic, and the MRSA is back. And probably here to stay.
Last weekend me & my 3 kids got hit by (what I thought was) a horrid case of food poisoning, although it might have just been a virus. I was cleaning up after them all night long, until I was so sick I could not get up off the floor any longer. One of my kids seemed to be unconscious and his mouth had changed color. It was in that moment, having a total panic attack because I had no one to call for help - I dialed 911. (My lovely neighbor Dawn was out of town, but I know she would have rode to the rescue if she was here!)

Although we were sick for a week and I've yet again missed a bunch of work, I am thankful that we are okay now.

And this led to a conversation I had with my SIL and one of my work friends - on what it truly means to be a mother.

It means to war against death, in all of its many forms.

And while you know there is no controlling death (those of us who have already lost children know this) - you nevertheless get up every morning prepared for the battle.

That's why we carefully watch our babies' weight gain, yell like a nut when they lick the freezer doors at WalMart, and freak out when they choke on some coins and you have to have the GI doc put a scope down their throat.

Or when we watch them drive off in the car alone after they get their driver's license.

We can pretty it up and call it "letting them go" - but it's just accepting that our most valiant efforts may be for naught. When you have a scary diagnosis, that acceptance doesn't come easier. Instead, you battle even harder.

Sometimes what we need in our darkest mothering moments, is for someone to come alongside and say:

"I see your battle. You are a warrior. I know how hard you've fought this. No one could do any better. You are the most courageous woman I know."



Because she is. And she deserves to win.

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8 comments:

  1. We can pretty it up and call it "letting them go" - but it's just accepting that our most valiant efforts may be for naught.

    Ohmygoodness. My youngest recently graduated high school (early) and I've been giving this very thing a LOT of thought. The above statement perfectly sums up Motherhood.

    I have not had to deal with a scary diagnosis - but you are correct. Your SIL is a true warrior - and she does deserve to win.

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  2. Thank you Katy! I needed to read this today. Calling me a "courageous warrior" helps me feel energized to get up and do it all again tomorrow. <3 Emily

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  3. All I can say is "YOU NAILED IT"! And that warrior instinct never stops, not even when they are 30years old and flying Apache helicopters in war! It is still just as furious, only even a little more crazy because you are not there and can't physically do a thing. May your SIL and all mothers that daily fight those scary diagnoses stand strong and know that all the mothers are silently supporting them! Loved this post, thank you!

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  4. On my child's first birthday it hit me that the party is for the parents...for them to let out a sigh & say, "We did it. We kept this child alive a year."

    Parenting is so much harder than I thought it would be, but also so much more rewarding. I love being a dad.

    Well done Warrior Mom :)

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  5. Well, I posted earlier from work, but it didn't go through. You turned me into a sniveling, weepy idiot. I kept hoping my boss wouldn't walk by.

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  6. So true so true. And no mother anywhere ever for any reason should ever outlive her own children. There are warriors and there are W A R R I O R S!!!! Congrats Warrior Mom(s)! They hv made it another day, week, month, year... Because of you!

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  7. wow, such power in your soft words. my best friend has buried two of her three kids. one was an infant, the other 28 years old. there is no right age to see this happen. i want to keep my two in a bubble, but they won't let me. they insist they need to live. and they have a cousin who fought a multitude of diseases that would send any of us to our knees. you speak so well for all of us. thank you.

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