A conversation between
friends.....
We are sitting at lunch when my friend 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 friend, 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 the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an
urgent call of
"Mom!"
will cause her to drop a souffle 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 childcare, 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 from running home,
just to make sure her baby is alright.
I want my friend 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 restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office,
she will second-guess herself constantly as a
mother.
Looking at my attractive friend,
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
caesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of
honour. My friend'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 friend 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 friend 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 friend's quizzical look makes
me realise that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never
regret it," I finally say. Then I reach across the table,
squeeze my friend'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.
The blessed gift of God and that of being a
Mother.
Please share this with a Mom
that you know or a future Mom you know.
"Author Unknown"