We are sitting at lunch one day 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'll 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 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 soufflé or her best crystal without a
moments hesitation.
I feel that 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 discipline to keep from
running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. I want my daughter to
know that every day 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 herself 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 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 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 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
reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent
prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble
their way into this most wonderful of callings.
Please share this with a Mom that you know or all of your
girlfriends who may someday be Moms. May you always have in your arms the one
who is in your heart.
- Shannon Parker
Norman
Mtu n'mamake! ...and true to those words, my mum knows my love for good perfume and her gift just mellowed me. Check it out, need I say more?... God bless her!