A Baby's Heartbeat Inside a Mother's Heart

That first time you hear the heartbeat of your child....
Nothing can quite describe.

I was young, single, very poor, when I heard my first child's heartbeat. I had tried hiding my pregnancy from everyone, including myself. I lived the first five months in complete denial that this was happening to me. I wish I had those months to do over. But I was an overwhelmed child getting ready to have a child and not having a guide book or road map in place to help me see through it all. I remember finally confronting my demons in my little college dorm room looking at my mom's face, in her eyes as I confessed I thought I was pregnant. There are a few moments when time seemed to stop and everything happened really fast and really slow all at the same time. Holding my breath while I waited for her response was one of those moments. I should have known my own mother always simply embraced me, embraced the situation. Fear of her reaction should never have been an added worry in my mind.

She was with me when I first heard my son's heartbeat. Loud and strong and seemingly needing to be heard. One tear after another dripped down my face as I surrendered to "what is" and felt the deep stirrings of my mother's heart inside that sound --- inside my baby's thump, thump pulsing rhythm that shouted, "I'm alive!!! I'm here!!! I'm powerful!!!"

His birth was rough. Lots of complications and a very long 42 hour delivery. And in those hours I went from being a young teen-aged girl to being a woman; the woman in charge of caring for, tending to, nurturing and sacrificing for my son.

Over the years he became one of my best friends. Laughing and giggling in rain storms while we both got drenched while pouncing and bouncing through puddles and water that was gushing along the side of the streets. Wrestling and scaring each other behind doors. Tickle torture. Inventing little hiding spaces in cupboards, in the bottom drawer of a cold stove (complete with blankets and pillows and a doll), in a tent made from a blanket thrown over a clothesline in the back yard. Riding bikes together. Exploring nature and finding animals, birds, sticks and rocks and tadpoles and bugs. Catching fireflies. Snow forts, snow angels, snow sledding, snowball fights, snowflakes on tongues and eyelashes.

Such examples of childhood and motherhood are the pieces and parts that rise above everything else that follows, the let downs, the disappointments, the frustrations, the misunderstandings. They wash away the hurt and tap us on the shoulder asking us to take a glance backwards and remember and be grateful.

Since my first child, I've been blessed with many more, my own three boys, my granddaughter, my new little grandson (to make an appearance in October) and many others who I consider my own, kids who have entered my life and blessed me more than they can ever know.

This song is one I wrote and used to sing to my boys while rocking them or getting them ready for bed. I uncovered just the tip of the iceberg in the gratitude department within its melody and lyrics. I hope on some level that gratefulness will nudge them on the shoulder, whisper in their ears, sometimes when they least expect it, even long after I'm gone.

Have I mentioned "cherish your kids"?
Enjoy the time with them you have been given, no matter how long or short that may be.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oxKBw1HA-jM

Blanket Forts, Baskets and Babies

My son and daughter-in-law recently let me know that I'm going to be a grandma to a little baby boy. Since then, memories have flooded my mind, remembering the love I've had for raising three boys.

The Three B's
1) BLANKET FORTS

 

I have always believed one of the best things you can gift a child is with the ability to find comfort, healing and security even when the world outside comes crashing down on them throughout their lives. I know this activity "blanket fort" is a no-brainer and almost every kid in America knows what it is and how to build one. But I look back on my boys lives and know that some of the little things we did together, whether they see it or not, established a sense of knowing everything is going to work out. I made it my mission to make a home rather than a house, make a life that was filled with lessons and experiments and explorations, make a refuge within the walls - a refuge buried deep inside souls, whether I'm present or not. I knew with my own childhood circumstances and later with my adult circumstances they needed a strong foundation that could sustain them when "life gets tough" (from Unstoppable, Unbreakable Hearts). Inside the soft, organic walls, old blankets and sheets held together on chairs or stools with clothes pins and safety pins, the rest of the world became silent, ineffective, unable to touch the ones who giggled, snuggled and read stories, made shadow puppets, wrestled, tickled or slept inside. A home inside a home. A safety net that shut out anything unwanted. 

  Exodus 26:31-34 "You shall make a veil of blue and purple and scarlet material and fine twisted linen; it shall be made with cherubim, the work of a skillful workman. You shall hang it on four pillars of acacia overlaid with gold, their hooks also being of gold, on four sockets of silver. You shall hang up the veil under the clasps, and shall bring in the ark of the testimony there within the veil; and the veil shall serve for you as a partition between the holy place and the holy of holies."

My prayer as they played was that through me, through the magic of blankets and pillows, they could connect with that holy place inside that would constantly be a guide and a force that could never be touched. A holy place within....

 

2) BASKETS



 

All things old and ordinary. A child's playground. A child's joy.
Next time you stop to scream at, raise your voice to or condemn a child for finding something unusual in the usual, please ask yourself how worth it it truly is. An old basket, a cardboard box, things that are messy, things that get broken, things that get torn and worn --- all can be replaced. All are JUST THINGS. The memories made from letting a kid be a kid are priceless. And while they sleep in baskets, or pick your favorite flowers out of your flower garden, or leave mud prints across the floor in their hurry inside, know those moments escape and fly away in the blink of an eye. Rather than criticize, cherish.

3) BABIES (even for little boys)

 

Even sons can have crazy feelings for baby dolls of all shapes, sizes and conditions. My sons grew up in a place and a time when boys were expected to play with footballs, trucks and anything masculine. But my youngest, the one soon to be a daddy, went through a time when babies were all that mattered. And he loved and nurtured and cared for them, held them, sang to them, kissed them. All the while, I was shown and knew without a shadow of a doubt he would one day be such a good dad.

 

The best parts of yourself you can give to any child is the same as what you can give to one another:

acceptance, love, appreciation, comfort, security, warmth, shelter, guidance by example, allowance to make choices, an ability to rise after a fall, patience, understanding and space to make decisions, find answers, seek out truth, test waters, figure out where and how to travel through this life.

 

As I wait for my grand little boy, I feel gratitude for where I've been, where I'm heading.

 

"A boy is TRUTH with dirt on his face,

BEAUTY with a cut on his finger

and the HOPE of the future with a frog in his pocket." ~unknown