The Tables Have Turned

When we become mothers, we have no idea what we are getting ourselves into. What did we think? That having a baby was like getting a new puppy? Oh, how cute. Not even close. For me, the first time I held and admired my baby boy, it hit me like a freight train that I just set myself up for a lifetime of worry. No one warned me about this. I was overwhelmed. When I had that realization, I think I cried non-stop for the next three days. I knew that one day he would grow up, move away, I wouldn’t know where he was, who he was with or what he was doing. You think the worry might ease when they grow up but it only gets worse. Even now, I can get anxious with worry when there’s no reason to worry at all. It’s awful. But all that aside, if you raise them right, which is the goal, they’ll be there for you when you need it. No mother is perfect and we all make mistakes along the way, but unconditional love, listening to what they have to say without judgment and respecting them goes a long way to ensure they are on the right track to be healthy, happy and independent individuals. I think I at least succeeded in those things.

I recently had two back-to-back abdominal surgeries, and even though my son now lives in Minnesota, he came down for me both times. I didn’t ask him to. It was his idea. Initially, I didn’t even want to bother him about what was going on. I’ve always been so self-sufficient and independent, I thought I could manage by myself. How wrong I was. He is on extended leave from his job which enabled him to make these trips. He flew down the first time, stayed about a week looking after me, then he flew home. Thirteen days later, I had to have a second unexpected and more extensive surgery and he drove down and stayed about 12 days but was willing to stay longer if I needed him to. He tended to my incision, he made sure I ate, he fed and took care of the cats, he picked up my prescriptions, took out the trash, checked my mail, did the grocery shopping, vacuumed, changed the kitty litter, monitored my medications, took my blood pressure, and took me to follow up doctor’s appointments. He even changed the battery in the key fob for my automobile. I was surprised and despondent at how little I could do for myself. He also communicated with the doctors when I was too weak and traumatized from the surgery and paralyzed with pain to speak at all. I was flooded with relief and gratitude for all his help and couldn’t tell him that enough. He would say - “Is there anything more important? You’re the only mother I have.”

It seems as if we switch roles when they grow up. He now looks after me when I need it after I spent my life looking after him while doing my best to give him a strong base from which to explore the world as a grown man, as his own person, without needing me. Now my only goal in life is to not fall down and break a hip. But even as I work on that goal daily, I still worry 24/7 about my almost 40 year old son. I can’t help it, it’s what mothers do. I’ve read that after our baby is born, some of their cells stay behind in our heart, our brain, our bloodstream, even our bone marrow. Is it any wonder why we feel that incredibly close bond? We are literally a part of each other.