I saw this on Bubhub and I thought I would repost it here so that you could all read it
" Being a mother "
" Being a mother "
We are sitting at lunch when my daughter
casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of 'starting a family.'
'We're taking a survey,' she says, half-joking. 'Do you think I should have a baby?'
'It will change your life,' I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
'I know,' she says, 'no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations....'
But that is not what I meant at all.
I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what
she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical
wounds of child bearing will heal, but that becoming a mother will
leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper
without asking 'What if that had been MY child?'
That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees
pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse
than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and
stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is,
becoming a mother will reduce her to primitive level of a
bear protecting her cub.
That an urgent call of 'Mom!' will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best
crystal without a moment's hesitation. I feel I should warn her that
no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will
be professionally derailed by motherhood.
She might arrange for child care but
one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will
Think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of her
Discipline to keep her from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that everyday decisions will no longer be
routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather
than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma.
That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children,
issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against
the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that rest-room.
However she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself
constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure
her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will
never feel the same about herself.
That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child.
That she would give it up in a moment to
save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years -
not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a Cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will
become badges of honor. My daughter's relationship with her husband will change,
but not in the way she thinks..
I wish she could understand how much more you can
love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child.
I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she
would now find very unromantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel
with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and
drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally
about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the
threat of nuclear war to my children's future.
I want to describe to my daughter the
exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.
I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is
touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the first time.
I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have
formed in my eyes.
' You'll never regret it,' I finally say.
Then I reach across the table, squeeze my daughter's hand and offer a silent
prayer for her, and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way
into this most wonderful of callings.
This blessed gift from God!
Being a Mother.
casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of 'starting a family.'
'We're taking a survey,' she says, half-joking. 'Do you think I should have a baby?'
'It will change your life,' I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
'I know,' she says, 'no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations....'
But that is not what I meant at all.
I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what
she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical
wounds of child bearing will heal, but that becoming a mother will
leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper
without asking 'What if that had been MY child?'
That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees
pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse
than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and
stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is,
becoming a mother will reduce her to primitive level of a
bear protecting her cub.
That an urgent call of 'Mom!' will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best
crystal without a moment's hesitation. I feel I should warn her that
no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will
be professionally derailed by motherhood.
She might arrange for child care but
one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will
Think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of her
Discipline to keep her from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that everyday decisions will no longer be
routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather
than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma.
That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children,
issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against
the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that rest-room.
However she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself
constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure
her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will
never feel the same about herself.
That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child.
That she would give it up in a moment to
save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years -
not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a Cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will
become badges of honor. My daughter's relationship with her husband will change,
but not in the way she thinks..
I wish she could understand how much more you can
love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child.
I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she
would now find very unromantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel
with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and
drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally
about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the
threat of nuclear war to my children's future.
I want to describe to my daughter the
exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.
I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is
touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the first time.
I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have
formed in my eyes.
' You'll never regret it,' I finally say.
Then I reach across the table, squeeze my daughter's hand and offer a silent
prayer for her, and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way
into this most wonderful of callings.
This blessed gift from God!
Being a Mother.
