On Being Mom.

I clicked a link this morning from a diary page. Sometimes I do and sometimes I can't be bothered. Today's casual click has shaken me to the core. A stranger's life and tragedy. Still, 'there but for the grace of God go I'.

So I'm thinking about my boy and what it means to have him in my life. When he was very small and a looney shot up a jewish day camp, I accepted that I couldn't protect him. Not really. I thought about it long and hard. I can't wrap him in cotton and keep him enclosed. I can't stop weirdos and diseases and natural (or unnatural) disasters. I have no guaranty that this life I brought into this world will be with me when I part it.

Having him was easy. I started late but he is a product of our first round of trying. Being pregnant was not difficult - except that I kept twisting my ankles. Labor and delivery weren't painless but it wasn't all that hard.

Bringing him home was harder. I had horrible postpartum depression. I sank in a pit of despair for over 2 years. It wasn't all his fault, it was a combination of hormones, losing the job I loved, and reality not meeting fantasy. I spent what seems like hours in retrospect rocking him and not cooing or talking to him but just counting the repetitions.

I latched onto things to keep me afloat and he really wasn't one of them. I was ecstatic to return to work - even if it was a shadow of the former job. I changed jobs, then changed again. I spent hours doing the books for the SCA.

Sometimers I wonder if I did anything right. I know I've made mistakes. Some of those have set patterns that I ought to change but I'm not sure how. I know I did and do good things too. When he was a toddler we spent Saturday mornings at gymboree, later it was Sunday mornings at the playground. I know I've spent more time playing than my parents ever did. We read each night together. He's always got hugs for me.

I know he'd have liked a sibling, but once I crawled out of that hole it was pretty clear to me that it wouldn't be a good idea. DH didn't want any more kids but he'd probably have gone for another if I'd insisted. I really just didn't think I could take on any more. I know it was a responsible decision but it sometimes makes me sad.

He's the best little man I ever could have hoped for. He's certainly not perfect but he's loving and endearing and imaginative. He says things that crack me up and things that make me cry. He frustrates me in ways I never thought possible and delights me in too many ways to describe. I've been known to complain and sometimes loudly. I don't think I'm cut out to be a mom it's too hard for a lazy person like me. Still, I can't imagine my life without him and I certainly can't imagine losing him.

I don't even want to think about it but now I can't seem to stop. Damn I love that little man.