Fourteen Years

Noah's birthday is this week.  Last year we hit the cusp of the teenage years; this year, we are fully into them.  My little boy is headed straight on into manhood, no longer a little boy.  Thankfully, he lets me know daily that he still needs his mom...

Noah's story has never been an easy one.  Part of my daily prayer for him is that, at some point, life will ease up for him.  At the same time, I know this life of his is what is molding him into the young man he's becoming.

Shawn and I were 23 when we found out he was on the way.  Unmarried, barely engaged, still not sure we wanted to be married any time soon, definitely certain we were not ready to be parents.  Unfortunately, parenthood was not something we readily embraced.  Newlyweds, still caught in our own childish, selfish ways, the first few years were rough for Noah.  It's taken me some growing of my own to realize those years weren't hard on us, as we originally claimed, but they really were hard on HIM.  Add in our original denial of Noah's differences, and the parenting cards were stacked against him.  I had myself convinced that someone else could be doing a better job than I was, and there were times I wanted to look for that someone.

The irony of all of our infertility struggles post-Noah is that we didn't even know we wanted him.  I hate the words 'accident' and 'mistake' in describing pregnancies and children, and Noah is the reason why.  Those words make him sound unwanted.  He is wanted, and I can't imagine life without him.  The rest of the irony here is those words are normally used to describe the last child to arrive in the family--Noah was the first.  Noah proves that it's all in God's timing, not our own.  That's one of the things we tell him--God was so excited about the work He had planned for Noah, He just couldn't wait to bring him into this world.  Noah may not have been planned by us, but he was definitely planned by God.  I will never have my child believe we had to get married just because of him, or that we married only because of him.  We merely moved the date up a few (years).

I will never regret Noah.  Never.  What I do regret is the kind of mother I wasn't to him when he needed me, the kind of mother he deserved.  I do regret that it took me as long as it did to grow into the mother he needs and deserves.  We didn't raise him so much as he grew and stretched us those first few years.

I love this boy of mine.  He amazes me.  He stretches my limits, reminds me to stop taking life so seriously, corrects my priorities without even realizing it. Because of his anxiety issues, I've had to work through my own to be his rock, and in the process, I've taught him how to work through his own. I stand in awe, watching him grow, mature, and become who God has designed him to be.  I look at where we started, and where he is going, and I can't help but swell with maternal pride.  I see how he is as a big brother, how Avery's experience as a younger brother is wholly different than that of my own and Shawn's as younger siblings, and I'm grateful for the person Noah has chosen to be.  I watch his (sometimes inappropriate) sense of humor grow (he is his parent's child, through and through!), and he is constantly making me laugh and smile.  I love his love for God and his desire to please our Father.  I love that Noah will give you his last penny, and if he doesn't have that, he will give you the shirt off his back.  Noah has a spectacular love for animals, and a compassion for people.  I love that he has not allowed his life experiences to jade him or make him cynical.  Instead, they've made him more understanding, more sensitive and more accepting towards others.  I have watched him with my heart breaking into pieces, and, in turn, my heart shouting with exuberant joy, cheering him on at every turn.

And now we are embarking on Noah's fourteenth year.  I can't believe (we survived) it's here.  Some days I think to myself, "Only 4 more years until I turn him loose on this world"--which inevitably turns into "ONLY four more years until my BABY is an adult!"  Sigh.  There are times I panic as his mom; I only have 4 more years to teach him what I haven't been able to teach him in fourteen years.  I had a revelation in church a few weeks ago, though--I'm not doing this alone, I'm doing this with God.  Thank you Jesus....

It is my honor to be this young man's mom.  I am blessed to have the chance to raise him and watch him grow.  Happy fourteenth birthday, Son.  You make me prouder than you could ever know, and I love you more than you could ever know, every day.