A Mother's Tears

When I was a little girl I would watch my mom and my grandma crying at movies or getting teary eyed at weird things like birthdays, and I would wonder what the heck was wrong with them.  As a teenager, in all my teenage angst, I thought, "Ugh. They cry all the time!"  By college I had simply accepted that my mom and grandma were criers, and they often cried for no reason.  It was no longer strange to me.  It was just part of who they were, and though I didn't understand it, most of their "happy tears" barely registered with me anymore. I never had any happy tears anyway, and I certainly didn't cry at movies.  But they did, and that was fine.

Then I grew up, and one day I fell in love.  I fell head over heels in love for the first time in my life. 

And I became a mom for the first time.  I became a mom to the two beautiful little girls my husband had created before we were more than just friends.  And I loved these children as if they were my own, and we got married and they finally became my daughters. 

And I loved them.  I loved them with my whole heart and all of my soul.  I love them.  I taught our youngest, our little Butterfly, to read and write and tie her shoes.  I did arts and crafts with our oldest, our Sunshine Girl.  We play dress up.  We paint.  We go to the library, and we're taking them to the zoo next month.  I care for them if they are sick. I apply medicine and kisses to their boo-boos.  They say I am their other mommy, and they love me, and we are blessed to love one another.

And then one day I got pregnant, and Kenneth and I had our own biological baby.  And she was perfect, just like her sisters. 

Loving our Sunshine Girl and Butterfly was easy.  Being their mom came naturally.  But being pregnant with our Ninja Baby was hard.  I nearly died giving birth to her. That was hard.  I learned that a mother will sacrifice anything for their child, even their life, and I nearly gave mine so she could have hers.

Being her mommy is like breathing, and I am so grateful that my husband and I are together and on the same page when it comes to parenting her.

Because being a "step" mom is hard.  Especially when I am willing to sacrifice for one of the girls and her own mommy isn't.  When I long to do what I know in my heart and soul and mind is best for her, but her mommy only wants to do what is easy, her mommy only wants to do what is easiest for her own life.  And because we don't have the money for a fancy lawyer, and because this is school related, I am forced to sit here and form a compromise that I know will be detrimental to my child in the long run.....because her "real" mommy wants what is easy, not what is best.  It breaks my heart.

And I cry.  And this is not the first time I have cried.  

I cried when I took our Butterfly for her vaccines.  I cried when Ninja Baby had to have her first round of shots.  I cried when our Sunshine Girl sat in our living room reading one of my favorite childhood books with so much joy and intensity.  I have cried at ballet recitals and parades and good report cards.  I have cried for their hurt little feelings, their joy, their smiles.  I have cried and cried and cried....because that's something mothers do.

Mothers cry.  Mothers weep for their children. Now I understand why my own mother and grandmother were always crying.  

Mothers cry because mothers' hearts are so full of love that it spills over upon our faces in the form of tears.