A mother's hand gently holding an adult child's hand on a wooden table, warm soft light, intimate and tender

From Marianne: When Your Kids Hurt, You Hurt Too 💔

"You're only as happy as your least happiest child."

I don't remember where I first heard that. But the minute I became a mother I knew it was true. I've repeated it for years. Not usually to my kids, but to other moms.

As I watch my daughters grow up, knowing they'll probably become mothers themselves one day, I sometimes wonder if they have any idea what they're signing up for.

Because something happens the moment your baby is born. A switch flips. You don't decide it or control it, it just happens. Suddenly whatever is going on with your child is going on with you. You don't just experience life through your own eyes anymore. You experience it through theirs.

The fun part is real. Part of you actually gets to be a kid again alongside them. But the harder part is when they're struggling.

That's when I, a usually happy morning person, wake up and know it before my feet hit the floor. A feeling of dread I didn't choose and can't shake. I don't know if it's chemistry, instinct, emotional dependency, or some invisible cord that never gets cut. But it sure is real. It moves right through me.

When your kids are adults the challenge is that you can't fix it. You have to let them sort it out, find their own answers, develop their own coping skills. Even if your heart is breaking.

Does this ever go away? I honestly don't know. I don't think motherhood ever really ends. Only the job changes.

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