Revelations

I am a mother. First and foremost, that's who I am, and who I have been for the last 15 years. The path of motherhood has been, to say the least, a challenging one, but one that I have never regretted, even though I started on that path at 16. My son Nathan, the one for whom I began this role in life, has been one of the greatest challenges in my life. Nathan was "different" from the time he was born. Over the last 15 years, he has been hospitalized 4 times for emotional issues, has managed to be diagnosed with just about every mental illness the doctors could think of, has been suspended from school more times than I can remember, has had legal charges filed against him, been on just about every psychotropic medication available, and in general has made my life a living hell. He has also been one of the few constants in my life that has always made my life worth continuing. It is common belief that children need their mothers, and I will never dispute that idea. But how often do mothers realize that they need their children?
There have been many times over the last 15 years that all hell would break lose in my life, and, due to my depression, I would contemplate ending it all. But Nathan was always there. As a mother, I couldn't just leave his fate up to "the powers that be", or whatever. I'm all Nathan has, as his father...well, that's a story for another time.
For the majority of Nathan's life, I have impotently stood by while he made mistakes that I could not stop him from making. Some of these mistakes I felt would ruin his life. I have watched him grow and change, and not always for the better, but always hoping that at some point in the future, I would begin to see the son that I knew was there. The kind hearted, loving, funny child that could brighten your day with his contagious laughter. I have never given up hope on Nathan, although many have, and finally, after 15 years, this hope is being repaid.
My son, my baby boy, is growing into a man that any mother would be proud to call her own. I am seeing signs of the man that Nathan will be when he finishes this oh so painful experience called "growing up", and I like the man I see behind the teenage mask of angst. How many mothers have to wish their sons would still give them a hug in front of their friends? How many mothers yearn to hear the words "I love you, Mom." come from their teenage sons mouths? I'm lucky. My son rarely leaves the house without telling me he loves me, and still hugs me in front of his friends.
All this is not to say that we no longer have arguments, or that everything is smooth sailing for us. I have utter hell trying to get him to do the simple chores that I assign correctly, and as for doing his homework...well, maybe next year. But there are times that I, as a mother, look at my kids and think "Would you look at that? I did good!", and recent events with Nathan have been some of those times. I'm glad that I chose this path.