I found myself wide awake in the wee hours of this morning. My son having just cried out to snuggle with me for his last hour and a half of sleep. It’s my favorite time of the morning. My daughter would do the same, wake up around 5 or 6 a.m. to have me pick her up out of her bassinet to sleep in my arms for the remainder of the morning. I pray all of my babies do this.
But this morning was different than all the rest. My son nuzzled in my arms, sleeping so peacefully, I can’t help but watch him as his chest and belly move up and down. But then I look to my right, and I see my husband sleeping just the same as if for a moment the heaviness of his day is lifted from his shoulders.
I begin to realize that in this moment and season of life, I am the number one woman in both of their lives, their center.
My son depends on me for love, nourishment, and every little need. My husband depends on me for love, support, and partnership. The difference is I will forever be my husband’s number one, but I won’t forever be my son’s number one. And that’s OK because I am raising him to love me second.
Just like my husband had to put his mom second in order to make me, his wife, first, my son, too, will marry the woman of his dreams one day, and I will fall second while his wife becomes his number one.
There is a reason they say raising a boy is like a slow heartbreak.
But it is not all heartbreak. To know I am able to raise my little boy to love another woman with all his being, to be a stand-up gentleman treating her with the utmost respect, to have him become one with the woman God designed specifically for him, and to be the leader of their home where he guides his family to the Lord is an honor and privilege.
My biggest success in being my son’s momma is to raise him to love me second.