Motherhood

(author unknown to me)

Time is running out for my friend. We are sitting at lunch when she
casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting
a family". What she means is that her biological clock is ticking and
has begun its final countdown.

"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 the weekend, 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
childbearing heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an
emotional wound so raw that she will be forever vulnerable.  I
consider warning her that she will never read a
newspaper again without asking "What if that had been MY child?" That
every plane crash, every 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
child care, but one day she will be going into an important business
meeting and she will think about 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 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 McDonalds 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 lbs 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 friend's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the
ways she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can
love a man who is always careful to powder the baby or 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'll feel with
women throughout history who have tried desperately to stop war and
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 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 realize that tears have formed in
my eyes.

"You'll never regret it," I say finally.

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.