Sometimes I shed tears for you, my dear little one.
Sometimes I cry because the world feels so vast and you are so tiny, leaving me anxious—oh, how I fret—about your smallness in such a big universe.
Sometimes I cry because you’re growing so quickly and I seem to be shrinking, and the more you expand, the more I feel my own insignificance in your expansive world, and I worry—oh, how I worry—about my diminishing place in your life.
Sometimes I cry because my love for you is immense, while my heart feels too small to contain it all. That overflowing sensation can—strangely and painfully—resemble a breaking heart.
Sometimes I cry because the beauty of your existence overwhelms me.
Sometimes I cry because the responsibility of caring for you feels heavy on my shoulders.
Sometimes I cry because, while I’ve gained you, I’ve also lost a part of myself. Even though I wouldn’t change that for anything, I sometimes long for the person I used to be.
Sometimes I cry because your skin is so soft, your eyes so bright, and your spirit so fresh. It makes me ache, knowing that your innocence will eventually be challenged by life’s harsh realities, just like all of us who are deeply human.
Sometimes I cry because you need assistance in ways I can’t provide, and that sense of helplessness as a parent is—strangely, surprisingly—akin to pure terror.
Sometimes I cry because, as a mother, I have no choice but to face each day head-on, and the weight of that responsibility can feel really, really uncomfortable.
Sometimes I cry because I am utterly exhausted—not just sleepy, but deeply worn out—leaving me with no energy for anything else.
Sometimes I cry because your laughter resonates with the essence of the divine.
Sometimes I cry because your mere presence brings forth a joy that surpasses what smiles and giggles can express.
Sometimes I cry because this blessing is so immense, and my capacity feels limited, forcing the overflow to spill over somewhere.
Sometimes I cry because everything—the love, the worries, the sadness, the beauty, the overwhelming feelings, the responsibilities, the blessings—is just too much to process. It’s all too, too much.
So sometimes I shed tears for you, and for myself, and for this vast world, and for countless other beautiful, terrible, desperate reasons that you won’t grasp until you experience parenthood yourself.
Sometimes I cry for you, little one. Big, cleansing tears.
In the Realm of Parenting
In the realm of parenting, feeling overwhelmed is a shared experience. If you’re exploring the journey of home insemination, consider checking out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination. For further insights, feel free to reach out via our contact page. And if you want to gain more understanding of your fertility journey, visit Make a Mom.
Summary
This heartfelt reflection captures the myriad emotions that come with parenting—from joy and love to worry and exhaustion. It illustrates the complex feelings of nurturing a child while navigating the challenges and transformations that motherhood brings.