Sepra
03-04-2004, 05:49 PM
Long read but a nice story.....wub
"THOUGHTS ON 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 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 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 restroom. However decisive 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..... that of being a Mother.
--Author Unknown
"THOUGHTS ON 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 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 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 restroom. However decisive 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..... that of being a Mother.
--Author Unknown