Your Mothers Heartbreak Becomes Your Own

A diary entry from our Editor.

Photo credit: Sara Covey

I have found that the parts that make being a mother so special are the parts no one ever sees. The parts that only come with being truly present behind the scenes.

It’s the moments before bedtime. The time when, if stressed, you could feel angry and just want them to go to sleep so you can put your feet up and watch your favorite show. But instead, you’re simply sitting on the floor, looking into their eyes through the bars of their cot as they smile at you, their little fingers grabbing at your nose to check you’re really there.

Being truly present is the most valuable part of parenting, in my opinion. Being connected. Not just existing in the same room, but enjoying the same experience together.

Photo credit: Sara Covey

We live in a generation that wants to raise securely attached children, yet we’re also the most disconnected generation. Human connection is fading. Our world exists in our phones and on our screens. Our work now crosses the threshold into our homes.

“We live in a generation that wants to raise securely attached children, yet we’re also the most disconnected generation.” - Zoë Bull, Editor

In a world of disconnect and rushing from A to B, becoming a mother reminds you to stop, slow down, and stay present.

You may have spent your entire adult life wishing for the next big thing to happen. Rushing to graduate university and get a job. Wishing your workday away so you could just be home. Wishing your week away for two days off. Wishing the months away until your promotion next April.

But having a child makes you pause. For the first time, you just want everything to slow down. You want to see that army crawl one last time. You want to see that gummy smile again. And, my mother tells me that first school day hits hard. And then suddenly, it’s their last day of school. Then they’ve moved out and your home is silent. Silence like you’ve never heard before. Silence in a way that fills your head with noise.

It’s as if the world is turned on its head. You’re reminded of your own mother telling you to enjoy your childhood, that it goes too fast. You’re reminded of all the times you turned away a hug because you were just a little “too old” for that. Your mother’s heartbreak now becomes your own.