I’m not ready…

Holy shit, you all, I’m going to need you to hold me up.

I can’t really put into words the pain and fear and grief and regret I feel right now. Tears streaming, heart aching with every beat, tight throat…this is the most pain I’ve felt in awhile, and honestly, I’m no stranger to pain.

My baby is a senior. He is an adult. He is a young man. He is no longer mine. He is his own, and this letting go bullshit is seriously fucking up my brain, wrecking my spirit, and just wow I am a mess.

He was born to a very young, very ignorant, very damaged woman. The young woman that held that beautiful baby wept the first week he was home. She wept because this world fucking sucks, ya’ll. That young mother wept, knowing that she would never be able to give that sweet boy the things he deserved. She wept because the world is not a nice place, and she put that baby in this sad place. She wept because she knew that not only was she young, dumb, inexperienced, but she did not know how to love. But she did know how to survive. It wasn’t until years later that she got some therapy and education and learned how to love and nurture. She redoubled her efforts and tried to fix what she lacked. She became hellbent in loving that baby. That young lady and that sweet child became best buddies. They laughed and cried and adventured and talked and more than anything else, they loved.

He is grown. What’s done is done. And I feel that little boy’s hand slipping from mine.

The letting go is painful. I can’t even call it bittersweet. This shit hurts. I want nothing more than to cuddle that baby one more time, to laugh with him, to look into his beautiful green eyes and tell him that he is my world. I am because he is. I decided to become a better human because he exists. I love, beyond reason and beyond words, that child. He is a good human.

The young man I see today is intelligent, responsible, empathetic, respectful, funny, ambitious, talented, and truly a wise old soul. He may resemble his father on the outside, but he has so many of the features I adore on the inside. Pride doesn’t cover it.

I know most parents feel this way. I have to keep telling myself I’m not the only mama out there crying, aching for her baby. He is truly amazing.

I’m so grateful this child came into my life. I am his mother, and it is the most important part of who I am.

So this is my blubbering ugly crying post about the child who made me the woman I am.