You know when you are younger, you often picture yourself many years down the road, married and with a family. Usually, you imagine a particular order you want your children born in. I, of course, wanted my son first, then a daughter. I never saw a third child in my future, and that was okay, as long as I had one of each. My son would be older to protect my daughter, and the world would be happy.
Fast forward many years down the road, my daughter came first. Then, I got pregnant and lost my baby boy at 16 weeks. I started to feel like maybe a boy was not in my future, but boy, was I wrong.
Five months later, I was pregnant again, and with the previous loss, my doctor wanted to watch me closely. I still remember looking at the ultrasound screen, asking, “what is that over there?” The tech replied, “I will get to that one in a minute.” That one? Seriously?! The doctor confirmed after they sent me upstairs: they’re twins! Twin boys at that. God knew what my heart needed.
I love my dancing queen daughter, but being a #boymom is different. The boys still like to snuggle with me, want me to sit with them, look for me first when they score a goal at a soccer game, and they still want me to tuck them into bed at night. We have our own special bond.
I believe 100 percent what Denzel said when he said: “A mother is a son’s first true love. A son, especially their first son, is a mother’s last true love.”
Being a #boymom is very rewarding. They can certainly be a handful, but I wouldn’t change it for a second. The best way I can describe being a #boymom is by this quote I found from Katie Bingham Smith:
“Little boys can test your patience, run you ragged, and make you want to pull your hair out. But they will also melt your heart with just one look, and make you wonder how you ever existed before them.”
To my fellow #boymoms, and all moms out there, Happy Mother’s Day!
Love,
Amy L. Foreman
