What makes a person, a parent?

As of late, I've been giving a lot of thought to one subject in particular. What makes a person into a parent? Is it the act of having a child that makes you a parent or is it the act of rearing a child that makes you a parent?



I came across an interesting quote that answers my questions, to a point.



"A genitor who does not parent the child is not its parent" (Ashley Montagu)



I'll admit that when reading this comment the first time I had to look up the word "genitor". For all of you reading this, it means, "giver of life".



Surely the act of giving birth would, in some aspect, make me a mother but would it automatically give me the right to be called a "Mom"? All over the world people ask this question of fathers; going so far as to call them "sperm donors". Mothers can be egg donors too, I suppose.



I suppose all of this is coming from fear on my part. Each day I love three children of whom I had no role in their births. I know that I do more for each of their children than their natural mothers do. I'm not saying that I love them more or less, just saying that I really do put a lot into trying to mold them into loving, functioning adults. Each of them is special to me in so many ways.



Jr. - My first child. In the beginning, there was only him. That mischievous grin that told me he was surely up to no good, is one of my first and fondest memories of him. He stretches me in so many ways. As frustrating as he can be sometimes, he makes me a better person and makes me question things in ways I wouldn't otherwise. He's begun to question everything. Sometimes its like he's trying to pick fights, just to see me get riled. Sr keeps telling me not to take it personally. I'm trying. I'm learning a lot through this banter with him, though. Its made me question things on different levels. He is going to be an amazing man someday. I pray that as he grows, that he knows how much I've loved him from the very first time I saw him. He truly was love at first sight!



M - With a smile that lights the room, she came into our lives with such force and fervor. From the minute I held her the first time, I knew that she was a special little girl. Those blue eyes could melt the frozen tundra (and they have). Sometimes when I feel so overwhelmed that I can't figure out which side is up, she does something unexpected and suddenly the world it righted again. Recently, she's been really enjoying being read to. "Brown Bear" has become one of her favorites. She's begun to turn the pages for me as I read, right on queue. I went from wondering if she even understood what I was doing, to being amazed that she's following along.



Z - What can I say about that boy? Dear God, he's a handful! From the minute he wakes up to the second he falls asleep, he's demanding.... demanding attention, demanding a bottle, demanding a diaper change, demanding something! I get the most frustrated with him, I think. Just not being able to figure out what he wants sometimes is a task I just can't grapple with. Usually just when I think I've found the end of my rope, he stops just long enough for me to catch my breath and head back in. He is such a loving boy, though. His kisses (or dive bomb to the face) are the sweetest and out of the blue. All of a sudden he'll stop what he's doing and just plant one on ya. It usually cracks me up when he does it, which make him laugh and then, once again... a moment of fresh air.

My fear is this: will they know how much they were loved? As Jr grows into the man he's sure to become, will he know how dearly he was loved and will he pass that love to his children? I don't think a teenager is capable of understanding the magnitude of love that their parents have for them. I remember thinking that my parents were raising me because it was what was expected of them to do. I know differently now, of course, and I hope he does too as he becomes an adult. My fear with the twins is slightly different. There is some part of me that still fears that someday I'll be faced with having to let them go back. Should that happen, I wonder if they will know how much they were loved and cherished while they were here. My heart would break if any of the three were to be away from me for any length of time.

I love each of them in so many different ways. To explain it would take up the entirety of cyberspace. They are, each one, very endearing and special. Sometimes I wonder why I do this. Why do I spend all my time, energy and money on raising other people's children?? The answer is simple. Because they deserve it!

That leads me back to my original question. What makes a person into a parent? I think the answer is "Love".