From the moment I laid eyes on you, I fell in love.

We didn’t know one another very well. I wasn’t certain if you would have dark wavy hair like your father or straight hair like me. I didn’t know if you would grow up to be feisty and spirited like your aunt or have the gentle disposition of your grandfather. I had no idea if you would be a scholar who loved learning with a dream of changing the world or someone who embraced the little things in life, content with unembellished simplicity. It didn’t matter, I loved you anyway.

When I brought you home from the hospital on that bright, chilly morning, I didn’t know if you would sleep through the night, if you would be fussy or if I would be able to console you when you cried. I didn’t know if you would recognize the sound of my voice and smile softly when I spoke, and I wasn’t sure if you would welcome my arms and melt in my embrace when I rocked you at night. I wasn’t sure if you would feel my love.

When you were sick and I cared for you, I didn’t know if the hours I sat beside you would soothe and remind you of how much I love you, how much you meant to me and that I would do anything for you. I didn’t know if the countless times I took you to the doctor, despite your resistance, that you would one day realize it was my way of shielding, protecting and safeguarding you. I didn’t know if you knew. It didn’t really matter, I loved you anyway.

When you were a toddler running around the house with endless spirit and energy, I wasn’t sure if you would ever stop throwing your food, throwing temper tantrums or throwing your toys. I wasn’t certain if I would be successful in teaching you how to share, be kind, or how to trust in others. At the time, I didn’t know if my efforts to teach you the importance of boundaries in life or about the dangers that surround you were taking hold. I wasn’t sure if you were listening.

When you started elementary school I wasn’t sure if the manners I taught you would eventually sink in. I wasn’t certain if my advice on how to become a caring friend would enlighten you and one day impact your future relationships, and I had no idea if the countless hours I spent helping you with your homework would teach you how to listen, learn and apply your knowledge later in life. I didn’t know if you were taking it all in. It didn’t really matter though, I loved you anyway.

When you were in middle school, I wasn’t certain if the warmth of my hugs would ease your fear or if the many talks we had after school would guide and help you build the confidence you needed to face the harsh reality of the world. It was unclear to me at the time if the hours I invested supporting you in all your activities, sports, clubs, dances and school events would reassure you and offer you the comfort of knowing that I cared, that I loved you, that your joy was my joy, and that I would always be by your side. I didn’t know if you understood.

When you were in high school, I wasn’t sure if the freedom I gave you and the subsequent mistakes you made would teach you the importance and value of responsibility and consequences and how each decision you make can impact your future. I didn’t know if you would face your first job with professionalism and integrity after my years of guidance and influence. And, I didn’t know if the self-reliance and maturity I began to see in you would carry over as you ventured into the next phase of your life. I wanted to believe, but I wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter though, I loved you anyway.

Reflecting back on the years, I’m not sure if the values and morals I have instilled in you will resonate with you for years to come. I’m not sure if you will stop along the way in life to smell the flowers and embrace the beauty before you or if you will carry with you the importance of forgiveness, compassion, and selflessness. I’m uncertain if you will embrace and relish the God-given talents that you’ve been blessed with and remain humble if success comes your way. I want to believe. But, it doesn’t matter at all, I love you anyway.

Today, my heart is filled with joy . . . I see the wonderful person standing before me that I have spent so many years raising and nurturing, and I now know that throughout the years you were listening, you did understand, you were taking it all in and, somehow, you always knew how much I cared, how much you meant to me, and how deeply I loved you.

The many lessons I have you taught you throughout your life are my precious gifts to you—gifts of love, compassion, trust, and faith—gifts of integrity, forgiveness, confidence, and resilience. Take these gifts with you wherever you go and share them with the world. Live your life, follow your dreams, find your happiness and always remember that I love you just the way you are. You are my everything and nothing else will ever matter . . . because I will always love you anyway.

Originally published on the author’s blog

You may also like: 

I Love Being Your Mama, My Son

Let Us Raise Boys Who Have Respect Running Through Their Veins

Want more stories of love, family, and faith from the heart of every home, delivered straight to you? Sign up here!

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Nancy Reynolds

Nancy is a professional writer, public relations strategist and parent & teen advocate. Her website, Raising Teens Today, is a culmination of everything she loves—writing, living life passionately, and mostly, being a mom. Find her on Facebook or on Twitter @HonestTeenTalk

Your Youngest Child Will Always Be Your Baby

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood

The baby of our family is no longer a baby.  She turned five this year. She talks a mile a minute, rides her scooter on one leg with no hands, and is learning to read. She’s sweet and creative and has the best sense of humor that makes me belly laugh daily. She has long, strong legs, and her round toddler cheeks have morphed into something more mature. All remnants of babyhood and toddlerhood have long since gone from her. She is all little girl—a kid with the world at her fingertips, ready to explore everything life has to offer. I watch in wonder...

Keep Reading

I’m a Helicopter Mom Learning to Become the Place They Can Land

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Mother and child

My daughter places a paper in front of me on the kitchen counter, looking up at me expectedly. My eyebrows lift in question before reaching down to pick up the wrinkled sheet. Next to an empty line awaiting my check mark reads: My child has my permission to attend the field trip. The child is my kindergartener. The field trip is on a school bus. The school bus will travel into the city. Over an hour away. Without me. Two steps to my left sits a pink and yellow backpack. Next to it, a sequined lunchbox. The lunchbox is making...

Keep Reading

Six Feels So Much Bigger

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Little girl with horse, color photo

Six . . . Six is only one number more than five,  one grade, one year . . . but it feels so different. Five is baby teeth and new beginnings. Five is venturing out into the world, maybe making a friend. Meeting a teacher. Learning to ride a bike. Six took my breath away. Six looks like a loose front tooth—tiny and wiggly, soon to be replaced by a big tooth, one that will stay forever. Six looks like a bright purple bike zooming down the driveway. RELATED: When There Are No More Little Girls’ Clothes Six looks like playing...

Keep Reading

You Were Meant to Be Our Oldest

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Brother holding little sister on back

Dear oldest child, Thanks for taking one for the team. You’ve probably thought by now that Dad and I really have no idea what we are doing. You’re not wrong. Please don’t misunderstand, we have goals and ambitions as parents. We’re trying to raise you to be a healthy, positive, and contributing part of society. But you are—and have always been—our guinea pig. You are the test subject to this whole parenting thing. Each new phase you encounter brings another new phase of learning and growth. Unfortunately, with that comes growing pains, and you often take the brunt of those....

Keep Reading

The Bittersweet Reality of Your Baby Turning 5 Years Old

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Little girl lying on living room floor, color photo

Those first five. Those precious first five years have flown by. I blinked and here we are. I look back and think about all the times I wanted these days to go by faster. The times I couldn’t wait to get to bedtime. The days I wasted being irritable and angry because sometimes being a mom is just too hard. But now? Now, I wish I could have slowed it all down. Savored it a little longer. A little harder. That beautiful wild child who fought like hell from the moment she was born has been burning that fire ever...

Keep Reading

The Petrified-Squished-Spider Stage of Motherhood

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Bug squashed on windshield, color photo

There is a squished spider corpse dangling from the inside of my car windshield. I don’t know how long it has been there. Not because I don’t know when the time of death took place, but because I’ve lost track of the number of days it’s been a fellow passenger of ours. The burial service is past due. And a cleaning of my vehicle is so long overdue, if it were a library book I’d be banned from the library by now. When my husband removed his hat one evening while driving and used it as a spider swatter, he...

Keep Reading

Listen to Their Endless Chatter Now So They’ll Talk to You as Tweens and Teens

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Mother and young daughter talking on the couch

I’m a talker. I’m a spill-the-beans, over-sharing, rambling on about my latest fascination chatterbox. I love words, and so do my kids. I’ve spent over a decade listening to my kids share—often, as they all talk at once. They go on and on about their day, rambling about how their sibling has been driving them nuts, their shenanigans with their friends, and never-ending factoids about video games. So many words, so many significant and yet simple thoughts brought to life in our bustling conversations.  Sometimes I love all the chatter, and sometimes the sheer volume of it drives me to...

Keep Reading

Dear Kindergarten Graduate, My Hand Will Always Be Yours to Hold

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood

Tomorrow you’ll graduate kindergarten. You chose the perfect shirt for the occasion. It’s a blue and white button-up. “Get one with big checkers, Mom, not little ones,” was your request. I know it’ll make your eyes pop from under your too-big red graduation hat. It’s going to be adorable. You’re going to be adorable.  You’ve been counting down the days. You’re ready and, truthfully, I am too—even though I’m so often in denial about how quickly this time with you is passing. Didn’t you just start crawling? How is it possible you’ll already be in first grade next year? RELATED:...

Keep Reading

You Were Made to Be My Oldest

In: Child
Mom and three kids

You are my firstborn. My big. The one who made me a mama. The one who started this whole crazy, beautiful roller coaster ride the day I found out you were on your way. I remember tip-toeing to the bathroom before the sun rose and taking a pregnancy test. The flutter of excitement in my heart turned into a flutter in my growing tummy within just a few short months. And now here you are, seven years old and more incredible than I imagined in all my wildest dreams. You amaze me every single day with your humor, kindness, and...

Keep Reading

I’m a Kindergarten Mom at the Bottom of the Hill

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Boy holding hands with his mother, color photo

The local elementary school is perched atop an obnoxious hill. It is customary for kindergarten parents to walk their children to the top of the hill as the rest of the grades, first through fifth, having earned their badge of capability and courage, walk alone. Car line is off-limits for kindergartners, which means it’s a walk in whatever weather, whenever school is in session type of vibe. My oldest misses car line. I miss it as well. It’s so simple, convenient, and most importantly, warm and waterproof. But my youngest is a kindergartner, so for the last several months we’ve...

Keep Reading