The Paradox: What Moms Share

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The Paradox

We are called by different names;

Mom, Mummy, Mum, Nana, Mamie,
Madre, Matka, Mamita, Mother, Ma

There are so many types of us lately

Products of how we were raised

Books we read

Whispers in our ears about “how” “when” “why”

Blogs we follow

Online friends we trust to give us answers we cannot see clearly

Family that has opinions, thoughts, traditions, expectations

Our own gut instincts, the place where we feel it’s ‘right’

There are those that got pregnant easily, the simple act of conception an easy one, a joyful and sexy one and others , like me, that struggled so long and hard to conceive my babies that I was happy for no other reason than the chance to have a broken body fixed.

mom group

Credit Image: glow mama on Flickr


There are those that believe breast is best and others like me who filled bottles with formula with no thought other than nourishing my boys.

Those that use diapers made of soft cloth against their baby’s skin and other like me who have bought my weight and more in disposable diapers over the past 3 years.

Those that brought their babies home and stayed and others, like me, who put heels and smart suits on and went back to work.

Some women didn’t want to leave their children for a second; I took showers every day, shaved my legs, conditioned my hair, never feeling any guilt about it, never wondering how I would be able to.

I just did it.

I still do.

There would be trepidation to immunize and then there will be moms like me who make the appointment, hold their babies and let them slide a needle into a thigh or arm, comforting their crying child, my tears just as real as my baby’s, but never questioning my decision to do it.

Their health before my fear

There will be discussions about when to turn a car seat around, a crib into a toddler bed, when to introduce solid foods and playmates or potty train

In my house, those decisions were quick and made without a moment’s hesitation.

Going with the flow

I questioned very little, knowing that I was really at the mercy of their development, the whim of their collective hearts.

Sometimes I felt like I was not like most moms

Selfish, maybe

Unorthodox, for sure

Laissez Faire

Yet there are things about me that are so much like you.

All of us, the Mams and Matkas, the Mummies and Moms

We love our children

We would give up our lives for them to never feel any pain, or suffer any injustice

We would hurt anyone who hurt them

We want to make the world a better place for their childhood

Leave it sweeter than we found it so they can dance in it

We only want what is best, sacrificing for their dreams, helping them reach

We hug them at every turn

We encourage and discipline, knowing that line is fine and delicate

We celebrate their lives

We talk about them with joy and pride, we puff and preen

 Hold them tight

And let them go

We worry and wonder

We stand in awe at the feelings that we have when we look into their eyes

Or feel their tiny arms encircle our necks

We watch and wait for time to steal moments from us

We turn for just a second and see

Their baby chubbiness melting into muscular legs that crawl, then walk, climb, skip, and then run

Farther away from us with each milestone, in every new day

We contemplate a life before them or without them and tears sting our eyes

We stand in amazement of the “Miracle” that has become our children

We are called by different names

But when we hear the word, the moniker falling sweetly from our baby’s mouths

There is no distinction or diversity

We are all the same.

 

Kir writes for shoes & cupcakes at http://www.thekircorner.com

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