Sonrise & Soulwork

I didn’t ask to be a single mother, but I chose to be one.

And there is a difference!

To My Son,

I didn’t ask to be a single mother, but I chose to be one.

And there is a difference.

When I found out I was pregnant and your father opted out, I had a choice to make.

I knew what moving forward could mean. I knew there was a possibility that I would be doing this alone.

And I chose motherhood anyway.

Not because I thought it would be easy.

Not because I knew how I was going to figure everything out.

Not because I had some perfect plan.

I chose it because I had prayed for this little life.

I had asked God for my blessing, and when that blessing came, I couldn’t bring myself to turn away from something I had once prayed so deeply to receive.

I prayed for you.

And then, when the decision was placed in front of me, I chose you.

That was my choice.

And I think the word choice matters.

I believe women should have the ability to make deeply personal decisions about pregnancy and motherhood for themselves. And I also believe that respecting a woman’s ability to choose means respecting the woman who chooses motherhood, even when the circumstances surrounding that motherhood are far from perfect.

When that choice became mine, I chose you.

I prayed for you before I ever knew your face. I prayed for the opportunity to become a mother. So when I learned that you were growing inside of me, even knowing that your father had chosen not to take this journey with us, I had my own decision to make.

And I chose you.

I chose the pregnancy.

I chose motherhood.

I chose the possibility of raising you alone.

I chose all of the unknowns that came with saying yes to you.

And that is something I want you to understand when you are old enough to read these words for yourself.

You were never an accident that I simply learned to accept.

You were never a burden that was placed upon me.

You were a decision I made with my eyes open.

That doesn’t mean I understood everything that decision would require of me.

I couldn’t possibly have known every sacrifice, every sleepless night, every worry, every financial struggle, every appointment, every tear, or every moment when I would question whether I had enough left in me to keep going.

But I knew enough to know that the road might be hard.

And I still chose you.

Maybe that is one of the most important parts of my own soul work.

I don’t have to rewrite my story and pretend single motherhood simply happened to me.

I can acknowledge my agency in becoming your mother while also being truthful about how difficult carrying that responsibility has sometimes been.

Because part of my shadow work is learning to own my choice without using that choice to invalidate my hard days.

Sometimes I catch myself thinking, Well, you chose this.

And I did.

But choosing something doesn’t mean you’re never allowed to become tired from carrying it.

Choosing single motherhood doesn’t mean I don’t deserve support.

It doesn’t mean I can’t have moments when I wish the responsibility wasn’t solely mine.

It doesn’t mean I can’t cry.

It doesn’t mean I can’t become overwhelmed.

It doesn’t mean I don’t need a break.

And it doesn’t mean I can’t occasionally wonder what my life would look like if I had someone consistently sharing the load.

I can take full accountability for my decision and still acknowledge the weight of it.

I can say, I chose this, without those words becoming a punishment.

And I can say, I chose you, and allow those words to mean exactly what they were always supposed to mean.

Love.

That’s the shadow.

The shadow is admitting that something I consciously chose can still exhaust me.

The shadow is acknowledging that gratitude and frustration can exist in the same heart.

That I can thank God for you and still have days when motherhood brings me to my knees.

That I can love being your mother while sometimes grieving the support I wish I had.

That I can be strong and still need help.

That I can be grateful and still be tired.

That I can know without question that I made the right decision for myself while also acknowledging that the decision came with sacrifices I could never have fully understood beforehand.

Those truths do not cancel each other out.

And I’m learning not to make myself feel guilty for admitting them.

Because having a choice doesn’t mean every choice comes without sacrifice.

And loving the choice I made doesn’t mean I have to love every difficult thing that came with it.

The sunshine is knowing that if I had to go back to that moment, the moment when I had to decide whether I was willing to walk this road even if I had to walk it alone, I would still choose you.

Every sacrifice.

Every difficult season.

Every version of myself I’ve had to become.

Every time I had to figure something out when I didn’t know how.

Every time I cried privately and then wiped my face because you needed Mommy.

Every dream I had to rearrange.

Every plan I had to change.

Every part of myself I had to discover.

I would still choose you.

And what I realize now is that choosing you wasn’t something I did only once.

I chose you when I decided to continue my pregnancy.

I chose you when I became your mother.

I chose you when things became difficult.

I chose you through the sleepless nights.

I chose you through the appointments, the school years, the questions, the growing pains, the victories, and the challenges.

I chose you when I was exhausted.

I chose you when I was scared.

I chose you when I didn’t know what the next chapter of our lives would look like.

And I am still choosing you.

As you grow, I am growing too.

The woman who chose you while you were growing inside of her is not the same woman writing this today.

Motherhood has stretched me.

It has exposed parts of me that needed healing.

It has forced me to confront my fears, my expectations, my childhood, my relationships, my boundaries, my strength, and even my understanding of love.

Sometimes I think we have been growing up together in different ways.

You have been becoming yourself.

And I have been becoming myself too.

I am still learning.

Still growing.

Still healing.

Still showing up.

Still choosing you.

One day you will be grown and living a life completely separate from mine. You’ll have your own dreams, your own decisions, your own mistakes, your own victories, and your own journey.

And when that day comes, I hope you always know one thing.

You were wanted.

You were prayed for.

You were chosen.

You were loved before I knew what your voice sounded like.

You were loved before I knew what your personality would be.

You were loved before I knew what motherhood would require of me.

I prayed for my blessing.

God gave me you.

And when life placed a decision in front of me, I chose you.

Not because I knew exactly how our story would unfold.

Not because I believed I could do everything alone.

Not because I thought motherhood would always be beautiful.

I chose you because somewhere inside of me, before I ever understood what our journey would become, I knew I wanted to be your mother.

And all these years later, after knowing the joy and the weight of that decision, I can say something even more powerful than I could back then.

I would choose you again.

In every season.

In every version of my life.

Through every sunrise and every sunset.

Through the sunshine and through the shadows.

Yesterday.

Today.

Tomorrow.

Always.

I prayed for you.

I chose you.

And I am still choosing you.

Love,

Mom

Different seasons. Same choice. Always you!