Motherhood Stories: Abigael on Mothering Wendo

When motherhood gives you sleepless nights, go on a solo vacation...

I'm rushing through my morning so I can be at work by 10 am. It's 9:37. Coffee, bottle of water, work bag...

Car keys. I can't find my car keys. The thought of trying to remember where I last saw them is exhausting already. I let out a sigh as I sit on the couch trying to think. I have a slight migraine. Over the last few weeks, I've barely been sleeping, my Wendo is experiencing night terrors. We've been exposing her to new animals and they've been the source of her fears.

"Mummy look, I see triangle"

Mmmh?

Triangle...

I look over at what she's pointing. My car keys. Yay. I found them. But she's pointing at the little hazard sign on the keys.

"Yes babe. That's a triangle. Wow"

I marvel.

And in that moment, I'm awed by how much her little brain is growing. The knowledge retention on this little human brain. Just yesterday she was reciting her numbers and ABC's, now she knows shapes too? I am so impressed, my exhaustion comforted. Because this means her brain is also growing to accommodate her new found fears. And her memory expanding. My little girl is growing. And I hug her so tight, with so much love, whilst desperate for a solo night away from her.

And that's what motherhood is, in all its glory, there's the need for solo time away. To rejuvenate, without being needed or be responsible for anything.

The desire to drive away from the city and starting a new life while missing your child so desperately while you're at work.

I remember one day while reminiscing with my mum about her motherhood, and finding out there's people she doesn't trust to this day because of how they treated her children. Because motherhood is viewing your children as an extension of you, while acknowledging their agency, and carrying their pain whenever you can, and calming their fears, and shielding them from whatever life tries to throw away them.

While I know one day she'll be able to sleep through the night, and sleeping through the night terrors, I hug her a little tighter now. We hold her much closer to us at night because when she feels for us, she knows she's safe. She's protected. And that's all I ever hope to be for her. Her little safety bubble. Even though the eye bags tell a different story, every elderly mother I know, never have I ever had them regret "hugging my child too much".

While I look forward to a little escape, I kiss her a little more tonight. Because motherhood is the understanding that you can only love wholly from a calm, well rested mama.