A Mothers Love…the Depth That No One Sees
There are seasons of motherhood that are magical, overwhelming and visible- playing dress up, reading books, riding bikes, teaching manners, packing lunches, attending games, picking them up at midnight at friend’s houses when a sleep over no longer sounds fun, laying on the floor at bedtime for late night talks. For me, motherhood gave me security, purpose and direction to my life and kept me grounded in ways that are difficult to explain. There are stages no one prepares you for. Stages when your child no longer needs you in the same way, yet your heart remains the same, the love runs and remains deep. I don’t know if this is every mother’s experience, however it has been my experience.
Since my only child went off to college, began his own life and recently got married, my heart has been grieving the” invisible investment” that goes into motherhood. For decades you pour your energy into someone else’s life genuinely and sacrificially. There is a deep longing if we are honest with ourselves - that all of that invisible investment will be recognized. “Mom, I see what you did for me; I see how fiercely you fought for me, lifted me up in prayer when you knew I was struggling, encouraged me, loved me unconditionally, you were my biggest cheerleader”, providing a safe place to fall, to be gracefully human, imperfections and all. Then one day, almost overnight things change and somehow you are expected to be different. The daily opportunities to give love become fewer, while the love remains just as deep. The tension of that is what breaks your heart, feels suffocating at times, a love that remains enormous even when it has less to do and less ways to be expressed. Therefore- I found myself at a crossroads. I could either feel embarrassed and ashamed of how difficult this season has been for me when it “appears” so easy for many other moms. I could stuff down my feelings or …I could walk through the pain…. with God- and that is what I did.
As moms- we carry our child’s burdens, their struggles, achievements, excitement, their shame and fear. With my son moving into adulthood, the grief of my daily purpose, and identity was built around loving him and that structure changed dramatically overnight after the wedding. I felt excited and joy for their future together. I started praying for my son’s future wife years ago and I feel extreme endearment towards his wife for who she is and am so very grateful for what she brings to my son’s life! I also felt an immediate internal expectation to change who I was, that being me is no longer allowed in the same way as it was and it brought me to tears. I tried to help my husband understand how I felt- that my role as mom changed overnight. Not because anyone did anything wrong or love disappeared. Simply because it changed. I wondered if other mother’s also felt panic, confusion, disoriented, a bit lost. It seemed to me that other family roles continued on as normal, however my role as mom took a sudden and dramatic transformation. Grandparents are still grandparents; fathers remain fathers in the same way they were before. Mother’s experience something deep within our heart that says “things are noticeably different” without being able to prepare for it—this is even harder when you're the mother of an only child- I never got a practice run. The person who once needed us almost daily in some way -needs us significantly less (which is a normal part of development and differentiation). What has grieved my heart significantly is not only missing my son -it was also realizing how much my heart was wrapped up in being his mother. Not the visible parts, but the invisible ones, the millions of moments no one sees: the worrying, the praying, the remembering, the wondering, the noticing. “Did he have a good day, did he get his assignment done, is he struggling, does he know how much he is loved.” For decades- being a mother wasn’t something I did- I’m just being honest- it was woven into who I was.
A mother’s heart aches because we wonder “where does all this love go now.” If we are honest- “the mother love” does not get absorbed into other roles: being a wife, being a friend or a daughter. The grief for me, isn’t about losing someone (because I also gained a beautiful daughter… whom I adore), it’s about loving someone who is still here in… a different way than before with no blueprint of how that is done. The relationship is not gone, the season is, and maybe you understand because we all know seasons change- but my heart still broke, longed for familiar times, felt panic, ached, and genuinely grieved. I have spent a lot of time talking to God about this, in my daily walks, in my prayers, through my tears. I have found comfort in understanding for me, that my son “was not mine to begin with.” It would be dishonest to say I felt comfort in that every day and not consistently. I do know, even though my heart hurts- my son has a larger purpose besides being a son- and this is God’s plan for our lives. People prepare you for the sleepless nights and the teen years. But no one prepares you for the absence. The absence that comes when the child you’ve spent years loving, protecting, worrying about, cheering for and praying over begins to build a life of their own. It’s a beautiful thing and ….it hurts.
I don’t believe we have to love less, just a little differently and to know the seeds planted through years of mothering are still growing, even when we cannot see them. As mothers we spend years training our hearts to run toward our children. We notice when they are tired and when they are hurting. We carry concerns they never knew we carry. Then one day…. the phone rings less, the texts are less frequent and the everyday moments become “occasional opportunities for connection.” Nothing is wrong, in fact many things are right because what we nurtured is beginning to bloom. I’m slowly learning this season may not be just about a broken heart or losing a part of myself that now exists in a different way, rather gaining comfort that I am a woman loved by God, a wife, a daughter, a social worker, a dreamer, a dancer, a woman who is still growing that has been beneath loving someone else so deeply. It has always been my belief the world gets it wrong; it is not fathers who are the main protectors of our children– it is us MOTHERS! Protecting all that is sacred that has been given to us…and I know there are many mothers like me…who would lay down their life for their son or daughter- because there is no greater love than that (John 15:13 says “for there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for our friends.”)
A Gentle Takeaway: When your heart feels heavy this week, resist the urge to focus on what has changed and write down 3 things that still remain true.
For me it’s:
My love remains deeply
His life is unfolding as it should
God loves him even more than I do
Seasonal living Takeaway: Summer reminds us that growth happens slowly. Flowers bloom because we have nurtured, watered, and tended the soil. Whether you have a green thumb or a black thumb like me- we know that we have to trust the process. This week I encourage you to take time for yourself, spend time outside with a cup of coffee or a glass of iced tea, take a walk, notice something that is alive, close your eyes and feel the sun on your body to remind yourself that “you too are alive”. Hear my heart- let it remind you that God is still growing good things in you too believe it or not :)
A Verse Takeaway “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine” Isaiah 43:1. This verse helps me personally to remember when we feel lost and we are believers; our identity is not found in a role but in being deeply known and loved by God—because He never changes.