We recently returned from vacation. My boys were playing in the backyard when they noticed a robin perched on the playset, jumping up and down on her little bird legs and making the most high-pitched sounds. My older son quickly investigated and discovered that she had built a nest for her eggs inside our playhouse on the top of our playset. This mama robin was going crazy trying to protect her babies.
Luckily, she chose the right house. My boys are true nature lovers and have the utmost respect for animals and their instincts. They quickly understood what was happening and informed the neighborhood kids and friends to stay off our playset for a while.
I also have a lot of respect for nature, but I have never understood a bird more.
Watching this mama bird flying laps around the playhouse, perching herself on the top of our swing set for countless hours, chirping for backup, or sending out a warning if anyone got too close, I felt such a kinship with my feathered friend. This feeling I know all too well.
Even when I was first pregnant, I immediately became protective of my belly, vigilant about what went into my body, and much more aware of how being around different people’s energies made me feel.
It’s a completely natural shift that happens when we become moms. That mama bird instinct is just in us. It’s the easy part: nature at its best. The more difficult part is knowing when to back off and give my babies room to fly.
It’s such a delicate balance of keeping them safe, entrusting that you’ve taught them well enough to let go, and giving them the space to make some mistakes and learn on their own.
How do we know when to stay on top of the playset and keep watch and when to let our baby birds fly without us? In this sense, the bird has the advantage. She does not have societal pressure, other bird mothers’ opinions, or social media. She just knows.
I believe we know, too, when we can tune out everyone and everything else and trust our own voices and our intuition. Luckily, we have the advantage of time over the bird. We have years of practice letting go again and again before it is time for our babies to leave the nest fully. And when that time comes, we can only hope we have listened to the knowing and done our best.
Back in my backyard, the nest in our playhouse is now vacant. The baby birds have flown away, and the mama bird is no longer perched on our swing set. Her job is done; there is only an empty nest remaining.
