To My Sweet Silas, On Your Third Birthday

This week I’m taking a little diversion from my normal business-related posts because I want to acknowledge my youngest son’s third birthday and share all he has taught me. I love writing letters to both of my boys for them to read when they are older and I wanted to share a small bit of it here with you.

I was hesitant to share this at first, but I know that many other parents are on a very similar path. If you can take one thing away from this letter to my sweet son Silas-- let it be that SO much in life does not go according to plan. But it will be OK. 

Some circumstances WE can change. We can move houses, change jobs, or find a new spouse if we are unhappy. We are in control of much of our lives.

But so much of parenthood and especially motherhood is about surrendering to your child’s needs and accepting that it’s our responsibility to let go of all our expectations and just be whatever our children need us to be. I have spent SO much of my life trying to be perfect-- but I’ve now accepted that I will never be the perfect mom. 

I will never be the mom that sends in perfectly curated goody bags for every holiday or who chairs every school committee.

But what I CAN promise to my children is that I will be their safe place. I will do my best every day to meet their chaos with calm, their petulance with patience. I will accept them no matter which path they choose in life and I will do whatever it takes to adapt and surrender to their needs, their timelines, their uniqueness. I will love them, unconditionally.

Thank you for reading.

From the second I found out I was expecting you, Silas-- nothing went according to plan.

I wasn’t planning on having another child while your brother was still so young (I found out you’d be joining our family a few days after your brother’s first birthday) and honestly, I was scared. I had just opened my indoor playground business the month prior and life was-- tumultuous.

I felt like I had absolutely no more to give to anyone or anything at the end of the day and I was terrified.

I was already struggling to balance all of my roles-- wife, mother, business owner-- and the thought of handling another pregnancy, birth, and tiny infant kept me sleepless night after night. 

I WASN’T READY TO GO THROUGH THAT AGAIN-- BUT YOU TAUGHT ME TO SURRENDER.

I didn’t connect with my pregnancy for many months and constantly felt as if something was “wrong” with me. I wondered if I was a bad mother for being so utterly petrified. I struggled constantly with balancing your toddler brother’s needs with my own and ended most days feeling like a failure. We didn’t have family nearby so I took your brother with me to every appointment and desperately wished for time to slow down because I wasn’t ready to juggle two babies under two years old.

I WASN’T READY TO WELCOME YOU INTO OUR LIVES-- BUT YOU TAUGHT ME TO SURRENDER.

When you decided you were ready to be born, I was bluntly told that I wasn’t about to have the natural med-free birth I had planned and expected. The birth experience I had with your brother.

Instead, I’d have an emergency c-section.

You were frank-breech and there was NO way you were turning at that stage in labor. I was given options, but I had to make the right decision to keep both of us safe-- even if it was the opposite of what I wanted and imagined.

It was scary and I didn’t have much time to prepare. I cried the entire way into the operating room and throughout your entire birth.

I WASN’T READY TO FACE THE UNEXPECTED-- BUT YOU TAUGHT ME TO SURRENDER.

When you were born and they showed me your sweet face and the perfect heart birthmark on your leg, I knew that everything would be OK. I was meant to be your Mom and I was meant to love you forever.

You were born at the peak of flu-season and I was looking forward to hibernating and protecting you by only leaving the house if it was absolutely necessary. 

I have dear friends who have experienced unimaginable loss which made me anxious to expose you to any place that might infect your tiny, fragile body.

However-- you were born with severe hip dysplasia. Your hips had never formed into their sockets because of your breech position.

I blamed myself for months (years?) for not noticing your breech position (despite doctors insisting you were head-down) and causing your condition.

You were quickly fitted for a full-body harness and I was told you’d need to visit a medical center every day for a while, and at least every-other-day for the first few months of your life. You wouldn’t be able to have baths, you would need special clothes, and we wouldn’t be able to take your harness off for months.

The next 14 weeks would be filled with appointments and ultrasounds and I did my best to make the appointments fun for your little brother-- who didn’t understand what was happening.

I slathered on sanitizer and begged your brother to not touch the medical equipment or the waiting room toys and worried every single day if all of these appointments were making you MORE vulnerable.

I WASN’T READY TO OVERCOME MY ANXIETY-- BUT YOU TAUGHT ME TO SURRENDER.

I struggled at first to nurse you with your harness on but we got through it together.

We ordered your special clothes that fit your harness and other than almost daily appointments, life was pretty normal.

I was thrilled that you took to nursing so easily-- even with your harness-- and enjoyed the bonding time that it created.

BUT-- we then discovered you wouldn’t take a bottle.

We spent hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars, trying to find a bottle (ANY BOTTLE) you’d drink from.  We tried cups. We tried syringes.

But instead, you’d cry and cry and CRY until you were back to nursing.

That entire first year, leaving you for even an hour was such a stressful experience. Not only did I know you wouldn’t eat in my absence, but I had to accept that if something were to happen to me while I was gone, you’d lose your only source of food and your main source of comfort.

My anxiety started to take an entirely NEW form and I was suddenly terrified of any situation or venue that might pose a risk to my safety for that reason.

I WASN’T READY TO BE NEEDED LIKE THAT-- BUT YOU TAUGHT ME TO SURRENDER.

After your first birthday and throughout your second year of life, I noticed that some speech-related milestones weren’t coming as we expected.

You weren’t following in the same timeline that your brother had and I was confused and scared.

We got you into speech-therapy and other services and were introduced to the early-intervention process.

I watch you complete each of your therapies, which will now take up 4 hours of your week in addition to school, and I struggle to help you. I read and research and go through the exercises and I get down on myself for getting upset and impatient with you at times. It’s hard for me to accept that a diagnosis doesn’t equate to an inadequacy-- it is only a tool for us to learn how your mind works so we can all better help you and teach you and guide you.

It’s hard to swallow that sometimes, no amount of therapy or exercises or practice can speed up a timeline that you are so clearly setting for yourself. 

And now, on your third birthday, we are still waiting and hoping for those first few consistent words.

I WASN’T READY TO BE THIS PATIENT-- BUT YOU TAUGHT ME TO SURRENDER.

And now, as we celebrate your third year of life, you are still teaching me every day. Not only that I need to let go of my expectations and traditional timelines, but also that there is so much beauty in what is different.

You still cuddle with me and fall asleep in my arms and I lose count every day of the number of hugs and sweet kisses you give me.

Learning what works for you and understanding how you respond to different methods of communication is challenging but it is also so rewarding.

While I love your brother just as much, of course, I feel like we are connected on such a deep level.

I’ve been challenged to understand you, even in your silence, and anticipate your needs and learn new ways to connect. You have taught me (someone who’s primary love language is words of affirmation) how to give and receive love without words.

You have given me so many gifts and provided me with so many lessons but that one-- that one is the most special to me.

I WASN’T READY TO CHANGE HOW I LOVED-- BUT YOU TAUGHT ME TO SURRENDER.

As we continue to navigate your life with you, I promise to keep learning and to keep surrendering to your needs and to give you the time and space you need in order to flourish.

And I promise to do so WITHOUT pressure.

You need a safe place, a crash-pad, a space free of expectations.

And I promise to provide that for you.

Today, tomorrow, forever. 

You are the light of my life.

I love you, my sweet Silas. Happy 3rd Birthday.