Growing

This blog is a tiny beginning on a subject that has formed me. There is equal beauty and sorrow in watching my boys grow. As they walk towards independence, they begin degree by degree to turn their back upon me, something that will one day lead to a home filled only with the ghosts and shadows of the children they once were, as they journey boldly into their adult lives. I have been blessed as a mother In more ways than one. Firstly I am naturally unable to conceive; however due to the medical advances in fertility drugs I have become a mother to two amazing children. Secondly I had until the moment I held my first son never had a maternal bone in my body, in fact throughout my pregnancy I genuinely questioned why on earth I felt the need to breed. Moreover I didn't on reflection feel the need, I just thought that marriage demanded it. So when that tiny bundle (he was 5 pounds as I became magnificently ill at 4 months gestation and spent the rest of my pregnancy unable to eat and on a drip....though on a positive note I got straight back in my size 8 jeans!) was placed in my skinny arms, to say I was overwhelmed by the sudden and ferocious love that would challenge any love I had known before was an absolute understatement. In that micro second everything changed. I knew that firstly I would never live a day without worry again, secondly that my happiness was inextricably linked to my sons own and finally that it was time to get my head sorted and grow up. And I did, I allowed myself to accept my responsibilities, to ignite my ambition and to begin to at least try and live my dreams, because what I recognised in the immediacy of my sons first breath was the knowledge that I would be the most important relationship, example, role model, companion, confidante, that he would ever know...the fact that he hadn't even been given a choice in the matter increased the urgency to ensure I gave it a bloody good go. My boys made me who I am, I mean that in it's most messy of definitions; I am not perfect and I know that at some point both of my children will throw some particular memory at me that they feel messed them up. I am human, I am technicolor in my imperfections and I don't believe I am an amazing.....I am simply a mother. And tonight it is the mother within me that is feeling vulnerable. It is the part of me that is most sacred; the part amidst all the chaos that created the calm, the centre, and the core of me that feels the whisper of insecurity. I can see my craftsmanship as they laugh loudly with their friends; I relish their resilience as they throw themselves fearlessly and without question into new experiences. My heart swells as I watch both my boys spending long hours in the company of each other, planning their den building trips or discussing their lives. They are becoming the most beautiful creatures, compassionate, strong willed, creative, intelligent and so kind, but they are also becoming more capable in dealing with life and the emotional complexities that once I would have been called on to navigate. I am becoming less of their everything and it hurts. It is my job to fully enable them to continue their journey from me into the world. It is my intention as painful as it may be to smile as they shift away from my advice and guidance choosing others to guide them. They will one day fall in love and their hearts will be filled with another woman's scent (or indeed a mans as it may play out) and the space they save for me will be but a sliver. This is my duty, I just didn't realise how tough the knowledge would be? So, I shall end as I began, there is equal beauty and sorrow in watching my boys grow...but without question it's been the most appealing agony. Sent from my iPhone