Why moms cry

I didn't understand the concept of 'happy tears' as a child. I'm not sure most kids do. I can remember asking why she was crying after one of those commercials had done their damage.

I've never been a crier. I've found all it produced was a headache. Instead, I would find myself deep in thought, bordering on meditation, when something very serious or sad happened. When all my brothers, our spouses, my nieces, and my father gathered around my mother's hospital bed to take her off life support, I remember being very calm. I was more concerned about the comfort of everyone else. I didn't want to break down. I just took in the moment.

I removed myself and immersed myself simultaneously. Three months later, I suffered the worst loss. My two-year-old son, Noah, died in a swimming pool accident.

He was our only child. Of course, shock played a big part in the non-medically sedated state I usually I found myself in. I just went on autopilot from day one. I had no idea I could do that. I just did. My husband needed me. I needed me. Two-and-a-half years later, I became a mother again.

Miriam Phoenix was born, and we were about to emerge from the worst and re-enter the best again. It was a happiness magnified by the most giant magnifying glass ever. It was also incredibly complicated.

This sadness and happiness needed to make friends if we were going to be the parents Miriam deserved. I found that the tears flowed more easily at the happy stuff. The firsts. The first time my husband spoon-fed her. The first time she mimicked my voice. The first time she kissed me before I could kiss her. The first time we all walked together, Miriam in the middle holding our hands. To everyone else, we looked like a normal family.

I was even able to joke about my state of mind. After that, I was able to go back to my kids and do half an hour each of Special Time with them both, make dinner and then play some more after that. I continue to feel amazed at the healing power of Listening Partnerships. How about you? Irina Nichifiriuc. I felt sick to my stomach, tired and edgy. It was my Listening Partner, calling me back. I answer cheerfully and let her know she had just missed the opportunity to hear me cry.

It was exactly what I needed! Download our guide to Listening Partnerships Join our self-guided class on Listening Partnerships and see how you can transform the relationships in your family.

Share this post. A person who makes you laugh and smile and cry and at times puts your heart in places you never thought it could be. And when graduation sneaks up, you realize how much changes when that one kid leaves.

The family dynamics change. Mom grief is what it is. Sadness over things you wish you could redo. You celebrate everything unique and special about them and how they are the most amazing person on the whole entire planet. You do this every time when the Pomp and Circumstance begins—with the child who is your first, your middle, your last, and the lost ones in between. So you get most of the snot-dripping crying done privately ahead of time—in random places when you least expect it.

Like in your car after opening a letter listing dates between now and graduation. Sorry to say Im dreading it very much. It seems to hit really hard when its your last one to graduate. You pray and wish for the best for your children and their future. As a mom you pray you raised them right in every way possible. Letting go is hard mentally. Blessings going out to all the graduates and their mommas. Remember to breathe, pray and be thankful.

I just had my youngest bio graduate college last week. I thought high school was bad. But I found some things to do, but some how this college thing has brought more change to our family.