Right now I have over ten things on my “to be blogged about list” (not counting BlogHer recaps or regular features), which is odd considering at the first of the year I didn’t have hardly any ideas of things to write about. Some of these things will probably be dated by the time I get around to actually writing about them, but that’s okay because today I want to write about being a mom. Or to be more specific I want to write about the gut wrenching, soul splitting, heart stopping emotions you experience when you’re a mom.
By now a lot of you have probably seen the following video of Olympic gymnast Aly Raisman’s parents. If you haven’t watched go ahead and check it out.
I watched that as it was broadcast the other night. I sat on the edge of the sofa and my heart lurched with hers. Not the gymnast’s, her mother’s. I know that if she could have ran down there and taken all the hard away from her daughter she would have. We all would.
As moms we feel all the emotions of our kids, but in some ways those emotions feel more amplified. The pain is sharper, the fear is stronger, the stress is greater… That’s because we don’t want them to have to feel those things. Even though we know they do. If we could replace the sad with happy, the stress with excitement, the fear with courage, we would do all of that in a heartbeat. Unfortunately that’s just not possible.
This weekend we had a great time at the water park. We were at the end of the day and decided to do one more slide. It was one we hadn’t done yet, and since it has been at least 10 years since I’ve been to this water park, I had no idea what the slide would be like. On most of them we were able to hold hands or lock arms with the kids so that they could go down with us. This gave them a little extra sense of protection. We were not able to do that on the last slide.
David went first (at my suggestion) with the intent of getting to a slow spot and allowing James to catch up so they could go the rest of the way together. James was next, then Cady, and I followed up from behind. It wasn’t long before I had Cady within sight, but before I saw James I heard him. He was terrified and was screaming for help. David had not been able to slow down because this slide was much faster than the others.
As we rounded the bend I yelled at Cady, “CATCH YOUR BROTHER!!!” Because James is lighter it was harder from him to move through some of the sections where the water would pool and twist you around in the current. Oh my girl… as anxious as she was about herself she was not going to let her little brother be afraid. As she passed she latched on to his inner tube and held tight. “I’ve got him Mom!”
I came around the bend and saw them, her holding on and telling him she had him and him in full on panic mode. His eyes were wild and he was screaming, “MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA!” My heart lurched and all I wanted to do was stop the slide, stop everything, and just grab him and run. As the current pushed me past my tube turned so that I could not grab him with my hands. I locked both my feet around his tube and started pulling both kids in a train down the slide.
“I’ve got you baby. Just hold on. Momma’s got you.” I looked at Cady. “Cady, swing him around to me so I can catch his arm.” She did it even though she knew she would have to let go and finish on her own.
“MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA!”
“James baby, look at Momma. Look at me. I’ve got you. See. I’ve got your arm. I’m not going to let go. I promise.”
“MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA!”
“Look at me. Look in my eyes. I’ve got you. Momma’s got you.”
I knew logically that he was safe. He was sitting in an inner tube, with a life jacket on, in water that was only about two feet deep. My heart did not care about any of that. I wanted to stand up and pull him to me and whisper reassurances in his ear that I would never let him go.
The water continued to twist and turn as we whipped down the slide. We came to a lifeguard that was staging people through the next set of slides and turns. “Ma’am, you are going to have to let him go.”
Despite my reassurances, James was still screaming, “MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA!” His little fingers dug into my arm when he realized the lifeguard was trying to separate us.
I gripped my baby tighter and never took my eyes from his, “You don’t understand what you’re asking. I CAN’T let go.” Not only was that emotionally true, it was also physically true. It would have taken someone a lot stronger than that young man to pry my hands off of my son. He relented and pushed us down the slide.
“MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA!”
“One more slide baby. Look at me. We can do this. Just one more.”
“No more! No more! No more! No more!”
The current turned us and I pushed him down the slide. David was waiting at the bottom. He grabbed James from his tube and held him tight. I flipped out of my tube, caught Cady as she came down the slide, and rushed to James. I ripped him from David’s arms and held him, rocking and crying.
“You are safe baby. Safe. Momma’s got you. I won’t let you go.”
And for as long as I am able, I will not let him go. I will keep him safe. Because that’s what being a mom is. Even when your baby is 18 and performing in the Olympics.
Oh yeah…THIS totally sums up my life. No matter what is thrown at my son, I am here at his side 100%
I think this sums the life of all moms, the good ones any way.
A beautiful post. Really wonderful. Gave me goosebumps.
Thank you.
You did it again.
I’m crying.
Incredible.
Well I didn’t make you want to cry.
It tore my heart out just reading this. Poor little fella. Hold him tight.
Thinking of it now still rips my heart out.
aww that is very sweet. Stupid lifeguard. What is he? an emotionless robot?
He was really just doing his job. Some of the sections it is not safe to be connected because you can hurt your arm or the person you are holding on to.
I’m glad you kept hold of him anyway! And I would be a complete and total nervous wreck watching my child at the Olympics!!!
Shoot. This was excellently written.
Thanks.
Even though I know they were okay…this still scared me. You are totally right…it was funny watching those parents in the moment (maybe you didn’t say that), but really thinking about it, we’d all do it for our kids in a heartbeat.
It is still scary of me too.
My heart was in my throat. I am in tears. What a beautiful, honest, gut-wrenching post.
It is still gut wrenching. I think this is one of those mom moments that will stick we me forever.
I don’t watch the Olympics and admit that I didn’t bother clicking on the clip but this post was magnificent and had me in tears. This. Is. It.
Thanks. It really is what it is all about.
So hard to be a mom when you can’t stop the hurt the instant it starts!
Michelle
http://normalchaosforamultitaskmom.blogspot.com/2012/07/in-need-of-some-emotional-duct-tape.html
Yes. I just want to make it go away and it hurts so bad when I can’t.
Stupid pregnancy hormones + your writing = me sobbing
I’m so sorry you both had to experience that. It’s so hard when your child is scared.
I. Love. This. Post. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m gonna put it on may fan page. Part of what makes the Olympics so great for me *is* watching the parents of the athletes and I can only imagine the high highs and low lows that they experience.
On the waterpark experience, you and Cady handled that wonderfully and yes we will never, ever let go of our little ones.
Cady did so well. I was so proud of my little momma.
Awwww, sorry. You aren’t supposed to make pregnant ladies cry.
I have a million blog topics on my list right now too. I doubt I will get to half of them.
Being a mom is an emotion overload. Sometimes the strength of my emotions when I am dealing with my children or watching my children or even just thinking about my children overwhelms me.
Oh I and could just so imagine every piece of this story.
The emotions are just so intense sometimes. It can be the best or the worst.
Oh my heart! I can’t believe you all had to go through that. It doesn’t matter if it is a splash of water, when you can feel their fear…you do all that you can to make them feel safe. You are a great momma!!