Softer now—my heart and how it melts and pools inside my chest. That’s what happens when you have a child, they say. But still I feed the fear both in my sleep and in my waking hours. Someone is always next.
I cradle my sweet boy. The men inside my family all of them always dying someone is always next. I place my cheek against his nose to feel his small warm air—wake him up to watch him breathe. I gnaw upon the fear. It lodges itself in my teeth and with my tongue I move back and forth along the porcelain backs and try to pull it out. Flossing failure.
He is so beautiful, my boy. Beside me, on the bed, his feet resting on my lap. They’re clammy with the slightest fever, sticking to my skin. When I shift, he stirs and reaches one arm up above his head. I smell the spoiled milk on my shirt.
Adam tells me how I worry far too much—imagine if he knew I counted his breaths too. Late at night, or early morning, watching a chest rise and fall. The color of the lips and nailbeds, the pallor of the skin. Someone is always next.
The sweet men and all their sad and heavy hearts. Did my boy come out already broken? I need to weave the worth into his bones and wind the love into his veins. When he sleeps, I whisper in his ear, waiting for the words, like seeds, to plant themselves.
Can mothers stop the curses carried from the fathers to the sons?
The Wild Heart of Life 
Some things are better left unsaid to those you worry most about. Don’t whisper ‘please don’t’ but emit strength and humor. Strength to face fear and humour to mock and overcome it.
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So true. There is so much power in the good that I can give him.
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Mesmerising and moving
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Thank you friend ❤
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Fear fantasies are part of motherhood, it seems. It may have a purpose for making us assess any possible dangers to our offspring. The ever-vigilant lioness. 🙂
However, for better or worse, the law of attraction works to bring into our lives things we emote about. Every time you feel or think a fearful thought, I urge you to catch yourself and turn it around into what you really want, think/state the dream. Dream BIG! ❤
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Fear fantasies. Lol, that is the best way I have heard to describe it. Yes yes yes–I am slowly reminding myself to chase the thoughts away. Thank you for the reminder ❤
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❤
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Shayleene, I was also filled with fear when I became a mother. But my fears of not being a good mother were different from yours. Take care not to transfer your fears to your beautiful son. Simply love him for all that he is and enjoy this time you have with him. They grow up so fast.
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Yes. I reflect on that a lot. Not burdening him with my fears–so hard not to do. Thank you for the reminder–aptly spoken. ❤
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Touches my soul….
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❤ ❤
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No-one comes out ‘broken’ … but you know that, deep in your heart. You know the why’s and the how’ of people getting broken. Your job is to teach him where the answers can be found. His job will be to decide what to do with those answers.
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Beautifully written ❤
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You’ve captured the fears of motherhood so accurately.
Carole
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“The sweet men and all their sad and heavy hearts. Did my boy come out already broken? I need to weave the worth into his bones and wind the love into his veins. When he sleeps, I whisper in his ear, waiting for the words, like seeds, to plant themselves. ”
How beautiful!
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thank you friend ❤
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