In the world we live in, no one prepares us for motherhood. No, people tell us that having a baby means changing diapers, waking up over and over again at night, feeding him, and putting him to sleep. They say the love we’ll feel for him is indescribable. But no one ever told me, “Maryline, when you’re changing diapers, you’ll appreciate those little poops; you’ll cheer and kiss your son because he finally went after long days of holding it in—days that stressed you out.”
I wasn’t properly prepared for the nights: I thought I’d wake up when he cried to feed him. I never imagined I’d wake up a thousand and one times just to check on him, see if he’s sleeping well, and end up staying there for an hour, gazing at him, moved by the child I have.
No one prepared me to be happy about how many ounces he eats in a day or to worry when he wasn’t gaining enough weight. No one told me that even at 4 months, I’d be proud of myself for getting my son to sleep and having a good bedtime routine. My son amazes me, no matter what he does.
Whether it was the first time he rolled over, put his hands in his mouth, smiled, or even at the hospital where he got a shot every three hours without a peep because of his low blood sugar—in my eyes, my son is a champion!
I want the best for him; I’ve even changed a lot to make sure of it. Most of the time, I tell myself I’m doing a good job and that my baby will be okay in the life he’ll lead. Sometimes, when I turn on the TV, I’m afraid for his future; I’d much rather see messages of peace than of hate and fear... So the influence of fear and dread sweeps me away with it… I cry along with those moms whose children live in fear and hatred; I cry along with those who are coping with illness and death. I also cry when illness is overcome and a mom finally manages to lift her child out of misery.
My ability to put myself in others’ shoes has grown exponentially—and all because of one little human. My very own little human, who makes me experience the full range of emotions and opens my eyes to this world we live in.
I certainly wasn’t prepared for my baby to make me realize all the injustices—and all the beautiful things—in the world. So far, I truly believe my son has helped me grow far more than I’ve helped him. My son comes first now, even before myself, and that feels natural to me. He is an extension of my being, the best part of who I am. Yes, my son, I love you.
Maryline Marleau