I’ve been down this path before. It’s well-trodden — the euphemisms familiar like a friend, but each time, they stab me anew. The attempts to frame her struggles, stammered awkwardly, should be familiar; they shouldn’t be a surprise. But each time, the heart that I thought was tough, the heart that I thought could accept, is shattered again. I thought my heart recognized, accepted, believed that “this is her personal challenge, her life’s path determined by Hashem.” But it rebelled, internally fighting what my mind understood. My heart aches for her, an ache so deep, it never really disappears, but sits in the background as I watch her struggle, trying to gain her footing, desperately trying to do the things that come so easily to others.

There was no time for my heart to recover. I wiped the tears, pasted a smile on my face, hung up the phone and quickly dialed my next child’s teacher. My heart is hammering, reminding me of its strength in accepting what Hashem has given me.

Only this time, there was no stammering, there was no struggle to frame the descriptions in a positive way. The words flowed like water, the praise effusive, genuine, and sincere. A teachers dream, beloved by all, so special, and I thought my heart would burst. The nachas, the joy, but mostly the pure gratitude to HaKadosh Baruch Hu for granting me this gift, this treasure, and a heart to recognize that I must not take it for granted.

I hung up the phone, tears filling my eyes.

I thought my heart was big. I thought it could expand.

But tonight, it just didn’t seem big or expansive enough. How can a mother’s heart handle the pain of watching one child suffer so much, accept the difficulty of how hard one child has it, while rejoicing joyfully at the success of another child? And all within the span of ten minutes?

How can one beating heart bear the pain, the hurt, the emotion, together with the nachas, the joy, the love all at once?

I guess that’s how I truly know. I have a mother’s heart.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 849)