I wanted my son to meet the biggest thing I’ve ever seen, and so I took him to the ocean.
It seemed silly, really, to introduce a four and a half month old to the Pacific Ocean. He certainly won’t remember and he sure didn’t understand what it was that he was doing. He could not fathom the hugeness of the ocean from where his 15lb body sat in my arms.
But I wanted to show him anyway. I wanted to give him the chance to see it, even if he would not be able to truly take it all in. OBaby may not have felt like he was staring at the largest body of water on Earth, but he was. He was there in the middle of it, hearing the waves, touching the sand.
Parenting is like this to me. I cannot comprehend it’s magnitude. It simply cannot make sense in my head that I am responsible for raising a person who will make an impact in this world. Most days, touching my toes to wet sand is as close as I get to understanding the ocean of importance that is being a mother.
But then I walk away from a moment like this, from a moment in which I took my son to meet the ocean, and I get a small glimpse. The tiniest of peeks inside the enormity of my calling as OBaby’s mom. And I am blown away.