“Don’t worry. You’ll only remember the good times.”
Every mother has heard this at some point. Most commonly it comes from a well-meaning stranger while you’re in the line at the grocery store with your child melting down because they really, really wanted to have some of those goldfish so kindly displayed at checkout.
Or maybe you’ve heard it while trying to buckle your screaming child in the car after dragging them away from the park. Or maybe you’ve heard it while you’re lugging two carriers of snot-nosed, teething babies into the doctor’s office for a sick visit.
So many times in the last 9 years, people have chimed in with, “Trust me. You’ll forget all those hard days, and only remember the good ones.”
Who knows, maybe someday I’ll be the one dispensing these words of wisdom. From where I sit now though, I find that entirely impossible. I WON’T FORGET.
I won’t forget the emergency room visits in the middle of the night for breathing issues, stitches, or ridiculously high fevers.
I won’t forget the weekly doctor visits with my so-frequently-sick twin baby boys.
I won’t forget the babies who screamed all day long.
I won’t forget worrying about my kids’ health, happiness, or life skills.
I won’t forget bouncing around the room with the baby in my carrier because that was the only thing that would keep them from screaming.
I won’t forget driving around in my car for a break from the madness.
I won’t forget the sleepless nights, the potty training madness, the teething, the many injuries, or the frustration.
I’m not sure if the parents so freely dispensing this advice have actually forgotten themselves. Maybe it’s all a well-architected lie young parents are told in an attempt to make us feel better. Maybe we’ll eventually get a letter in the mail, or when our youngest reaches a certain age, our own mothers will pull us in on the lie and we’ll play our part. What I really want to say to the sweet, well-intentioned people who offer this during the moments I am confronted with chaos and hardship is “No, no I won’t forget.” But I also want to tell them that this isn’t such a bad thing.
My vivid memories of all of the really difficult times gives a depth of appreciation and richness to the better times that follow. I feel a keen sense of appreciation in those moments where things feel balanced, joyful, and when things feel even, dare I say it, easy. This appreciation is the result of having dug deep and fought through the most difficult times, still emerging on the other side – stronger, wiser, and a better mom for it. In the end, “the best view comes after the hardest climb.”
Keep on climbing!
