The Every Mom

Oohhh dear lord it's hard. Like, really hard, right ladies? I’m literally typing this from a corner of the bathroom with a glass of wine on the floor because I can't cope with it all at the moment.

That's ok. It’s allowed.

I'm only 5 years in to giving everything of myself and finally the fog of infancy is lifting. Today I can actually make the coherent thought of "maybe all of me is too much?". Because that’s how much we give… all of us.

Don't I get to keep any of myself? Don't I need to save some parts just for me, just to feel like I'm more than my children? When Lochlan died I didn't think I'd ever want anything in life as much as I wanted him, that loss ripped so deep into my veins that I was sure I died with him.

I was my child and my child was me, we both fought, we both suffered, we both lost.
A few years past that loss and a few more children grown inside of me, I can see that I need to keep a part of me separate, I need a small slice of the pie for myself - to feel whole.

Andrew showed me this picture today and I melted. Two of my boys, always close, always looking for mama. But in all honesty their constant need for mom wears me down; both in need of momma’s love in different ways. As soon as I've fed Woods I hear Wally call my name. As soon as Wally is down for a nap Woods cries for me. Around and around we go. And if Kenzie could talk... well, let's be real, she would say "Mama, I need a snack and then I'm gonna just chill over here." My girl, so independently dependent on us.

So, I give all that I can, knowing that a little bit needs to get left behind for me. They will know a stay at home mom, a working mom, a loving mom, a tough mom. They will know me, but my biggest hope is that I'll know myself.