Control

Handing over control wasn’t something I was comfortable with--not in my own life, but more specifically not in the life of my daughter.  For as far back as I can remember I’ve held tight to three things: writing and running and reading. There were days where I would be running and simultaneously be writing on my phone. These were the things that brought me peace. The main character of my stories, from the age of 12 forward, was always Emma. Emma was always the protagonist in the magical worlds I would create, and I knew one that day she would be the protagonist in my life--I knew I would have my own little girl that I would get to watch grow and see her story unfold. When life doesn’t always go how we want it to, sometimes we are forced to hand over that control. I wasn’t, and am probably still not quite ready to do that to the fullest degree that I have to.

     I had my Emma in October of 2017 and she is the life-force that keeps me going. The first two and a half years of her life she slept solely in my arms. I nursed her for 2 of those years, and I held her close. It was me and her against it all, and we were inseparable. I struggled to even dedicate time in the days for “self-care” because I didn’t want to leave her, and I just considered her a part of my daily routine. She was this little fire-cracker, running around by 9-months old, talking, babbling, getting into everything, and making me laugh every single day. It was as if my heart removed itself from my body and just began running around in front of me. All my life I knew I would have my “Emma,” but now if you ask her what her name is, she will proudly proclaim, “my name is bug bug!” I clearly call her by her nickname far too often. 

         Life took a turn, as it does for all of us in differing areas, and when she was two and a half she had to start leaving for overnights. First it was just one, but eventually transitioned into two overnights away, every other weekend. It isn’t easy for me, and I don’t suspect as a mom that it ever truly will be. I’ve had “Emma” as the protagonist of my stories for so long, and now I have my real-life Emma as the lead character of my life, and every two weeks I have these 2 days that I don’t know what is happening on those pages. I don’t know if she is laughing, smiling, crying, hurting, or any other emotion; I’m not in control of those pages of her life and it is incredibly hard for my mind--and heart--to let that settle. I’m getting better. We are approaching month 5 of these overnights now, and I am getting better. I can’t imagine it will ever be easy, but I am learning to use those weekends to get longer workouts in, spend time with my friends, uninterrupted, enjoy my family without having to be responsible for all the little things. The truth is, though, I enjoy all the little things. Even on the days she is intensely needy and loud, I enjoy the moments with her, and I enjoy just the simple gift of being her mom. 

          Control isn’t an easy thing to hand over, but I am getting better at it, and I am learning--and growing--along this journey and these new chapters. I’m finding peace in the quiet moments, and I go for a workout or write/read when I can’t quiet my own mind. Being a mom is such a gift, but it is also terrifying, in its own way. You always want what is best for that little person, and you question, over and over, if you’re doing it right, if you’re enough, and if you’re giving them enough of your time and energy. We can always do more and be more, and I think it’s important to always strive to do better, but also accept that failure is part of that process along the way. 

    Cheers to the mom’s out there, getting by, learning that they can’t control everything in their child’s lives, and embracing the beauty of this chaotic job we call “mom life.”