On Becoming

A few days ago, I read a blog post about mothering more than one child. It so beautifully put into words the way having children changes a woman and redefines her as a mother:

To become a mother, I had to learn how to care about someone more than I did about myself, and that was terrible. But who I am now is something more terrible: the protector who can’t always protect; the one with arms that are designed to hold, always having to let go.

Dear mother of only one child, don’t blame yourself for thinking that your life is hard. You’re suffering now because you’re turning into a new woman, a woman who is never allowed to be alone. For what? Only so that you can become strong enough to be a woman who will be left.

When I had only one child, she was so heavy. Now I can see that children are as light as air. They float past you, nudging against you like balloons as they ascend.

These words bring tears to my eyes... And they got me thinking more about my first child, the child who made me who I am. I realized that I owe her enormous amounts of gratitude for teaching me how to be a mom, and that her little sister will never truly understand the gift that she received when her big sister lost her only-child status. As I rocked Katie to sleep, I thought about all of this and started to write Ellie a letter.

Dear Ellie,
You are an amazing big sister. Your care, concern, and generosity with Katie are so genuine and loving that I sometimes can't believe how blessed I am to have you for a daughter... and how blessed Katie is to have you for a sister. You are so special, and I love watching you be such a great sister every day. I think one of the biggest gifts you have given your sister is teaching me how to be a mom. Katie has it so much easier than you did, with an untrained mother. Thank you for being my guinea pig, for making me figure it out, for teaching me that I do have enough love, and that you are worth every sleepless night, every frustration, every headache, and every heartache... Katie will not have to suffer through my first-time mom blunders. She will never know life without her big sister. She will never know the loneliness of being an only child. You're only three years old, and you already guard your sister like one of your most prized possessions. And all she wants is to be like you, impatient to follow in your footsteps, whether they are walking, running, jumping, or dancing. I see it in her eyes as she watches you, and I love it because you taught me how to revel in these small fleeting moments. You taught me how to love the smallest and simplest things, like a toothless smile, blowing bubbles, tickle fights, an afternoon of digging in the flower pots, or a morning of playing pretend. If I am a good mom, it is because you have made me one. Thank you. I promise I will hold you close as long as you'll let me.
I love you,
Mommy