I heard you say…


ImageI heard you say “my son” for the first time yesterday. You were talking about the kind of mom that you want to be, and the example you want to set for your son.

Your son.

Your son.

Such a simple phrase.

“My son”, yet it implies so much.

It means you’ve grown up and you’re going to be a mommy. It means that my days of raising you as a child have come to a screeching halt. It means that I am now the parent of an adult. It means I have a grandson on the way. It means that you are on your way to knowing what it feels like to have every ounce of your body, mind and soul connected to another person in a way that could never be put into words. It means that from here on out your own personal needs will no longer be of any importance to you, because that little one will be everything; your entire world.

It’s the first of many times you’ll say “my son”. You’ll say “my son” to teachers, doctors, old friends, new friends, family, lunch ladies, bus drivers, neighbors, coworkers, dentists, coaches, preachers, school counselors, principals, and complete strangers.

There will be many times you’ll hear “your son”. When the doctor hands you your newborn baby as he cries out naked and innocent making his triumphant entrance into every day of the rest of your life.

You’ll hear “your son” and it will elicit feelings of every emotion imaginable, love, fear, anxiety, worry, happiness, anger, frustration, and pride. Your son will single-handedly be responsible for most of these feelings on a daily basis, yet your love and devotion to him will outweigh all of them.

You are about to experience an intensity that I’ve often heard described as wearing your heart on the outside of your body, but that only gently touches the magnitude of this feeling. Not only will your heart forever be exposed and vulnerable, everything you see, everything you touch, everywhere you walk, everything you smell will be unfailingly changed.

When you see him for the very first time you’ll say “my son”. When you snuggle with him privately, the two of you alone and bonding in a world that is confusing and chaotic, you’ll make promises to your son.

And with a guarding eye and a protective heart, from a distance, I’ll be praying for you, My Daughter.

3 responses »

  1. Wonderful. You just wait until someone hands you your grandson….you cannot imagine. I am so happy that soon enough you will know.

  2. I tried to imagine what being a grandma was like when my daughter was expecting. I had no clue how powerful my love could become and so quickly! I’m excited for you & your daughter.
    Enjoy 🙂
    P.S. Thanks for following Not Pretending!

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