A Mother’s Challenge

The resounding, lusty cry piercing the operating room’s silence and my heart, the bright eyes gazing into mine in recognition, my own welling in response…these are snippets of memory from the most transformative moment of my life. It was the day I became a mother. It’s the role I cherish most, even though my firstborn has now flown the coop.

From the first smile, the first tooth, the first step, the first fall…the first everything, I experienced every emotion that my son felt—the joy and the pain. I was his world as he was mine. I was his fiercest protector, always the tigress guarding her cub against any danger that lurked, be it germs, the school bully, or junk food. Always ready with a tissue for every sniffle, a home-baked snack for every craving, a lecture for every transgression, I was a doctor on call. It was a job that I took on for life.

I should have foreseen that while he remained the center of my world, the center of his would shift. With each year, he outgrew his clothes and his dependence on me. Where once he tottered gleefully into my arms for a hug, he soon squirmed uncomfortably out of every embrace. He no longer sought or desired my protection, keen to exercise his independence instead. I had to make room for it and adapt to his changing needs. But as long as he remained sheltered under my roof, I could breathe easily.

So, when it came time for him to take flight and leave home for college 18 years later, I faced my biggest challenge as a mother. Learning to let go. If I had loosened my grip sooner, perhaps it wouldn’t be so painful. It’s a rite of passage, of course. He’s officially a man. Yet, I only see my baby.

I know it’s time to step back and trust that I’ve adequately prepared him to face whatever life lays at his feet. But my brain and heart continue to battle. The latter aches at not being able to hear him breathing as he slumbers, to see the beautiful smile unfolding on his face, and to hear the sweet sound of his voice calling my name every day. My brain, however, knows this is as it must be.

Every milestone, every memory I’ve shared with my firstborn, is imprinted in my heart. It will expand to include even more but must first bide its time, as must I, waiting patiently in the nest for my little bird to fly back home.