There's a lot of heart break in motherhood

Before I became a mom I had no idea that your heart could break.

Truly, physically, painfully, sorrowfully break.

More than once at that.

But it can.

It does.

It will.

The first time your wee one cries during their newborn heel prick it’s like someone has literally punched the wind out of you. The world stops spinning. And then it starts spinning on turbo speed and you feel like you’re going to vomit and there is no way to pacify your sweet babe. No boob, no cuddles or lullabies or warm Mommy arms can make the torture stop for her.

And so your heart breaks.

When your darling is strapped into the car seat screaming to be let out, for Momma to hold him because that’s the only thing in the world he wants. But you can’t stop or pull over at that very second and it takes you another ten minutes to do so and he’s sweaty and beet red and there are thick tears rolling down his face.

Your heart breaks.

When you have to help four nurses hold down your sweet one year old as they intravenously draw blood and he screams your name until he’s hoarse, and you’re able to do oh-so little other than coo to him how much you love him.

You heart breaks.

When that typically delightful, compassionate, and empathetic toddler tells you point blank that you’re not her mom. You’re a bad person. She doesn’t want you.

Your heart shatters.

Obviously, we’re at this last one right now.

It’s tough.

My sweet, lovey H will be a cuddle bug one minute, kissing me, telling me how much she loves me, and the next minute she’s vehemently telling me that I’m not her Mom and I’m a bad person and she doesn’t love me.

For real.

I’m trying not to take it personally.

Because it isn’t.

I’m her safe place. I know that.

She trusts me. She knows I love her unconditionally. She knows I won’t punish her for her feelings or for expressing them.

She’s going through whatever almost 3 year olds go through, for sure. And while she’s sorting it all out she’s using mean words to help herself through it.

I’m just the target of those words. Because she knows I’m safe.

I keep reminding myself of that.

I’m safe for her.

She knows I love her.

And I tell her every time she says mean things that I’m sorry she feels that way, but I really love her.

Because I do, of course.

I also think she might be weaning. She’s only asked about once a day for the past few days and hasn’t nursed very long at all. Which is not the norm for her. So I wonder if mayhap she’s weaning herself and also trying to identify herself as a separate person from me.

I don’t know.

All I know is that to be almost 3 must be extremely difficult.

And to be a momma is heartbreaking. Even for the most made-of-steel individuals out there.

I’m a very I-don’t-care-what-you-say kind of person. I always have been. I’m very confident in my skin and if people like me, great! If not, who cares? It’s not my goal, of course, to purposefully hurt or piss people off, but I’m not going to say stay mum in order to make others happy.

So why should I expect my mini-me to do so?

I don’t.

I just never expected a 2-year-old to have the ability to break my heart with words. I didn’t know it was possible.

Until now.

Oh, the things you aren’t warned about before becoming a mother.

I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I knew there would be sleep deprivation and lack of one-on-one time with my dear spouse. I knew that it would be a long time before I would enjoy a warm meal (those do exist, right?) or got to bathe all on my own. I knew they’d cry and when they got a little older, whine, and sometimes I’d feel like I was losing my mind.

But someone forgot to warn me about the words they’d say.

How every single time you hear your babe utter “Momma”or“I love you” your heart completely melts in love and adoration for a human being so small and impossibly perfect.

But how they can do just the opposite to you, and say words like, “I don’t like you! You’re a bad person!” and suddenly your heart can break to hear such words from a person you love so fully and so unconditionally.

As I said though, I know it’s not personal. Rough to hear, but not personal.

She’s got a lot of things to figure out right now.

She’s almost three for goodness sakes!