Thoughts On Parenthood

Several years ago, I stumbled upon this little piece of writing, and I immediately felt as if the author had been spending a great deal of time in my heart and mind. How could someone write something so alarmingly close to my every thought? It touched my heart so deeply that day, I sat in a puddle of tears. My ability to relate to nearly every word of this exceptional piece of writing made me wonder....."Do all Parents feel like this?" and most importantly, "Does MY parents feel like this?" It is interesting to me that I continue to struggle with the idea that my parents could ever feel about me the way I feel about Sugar Bear. It worries me that Sugar will never really GET how deep my devotion is.

With Mother's Day upon us, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to share my treasure with you. I wish I knew it's origins. I did a quick Internet search, and was unable to find anything about it. If anyone has more information, please let me know. Enjoy!

Being a Mom


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 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 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 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 cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.


My daughter's relationship with her husband will change and 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.

The first time I read those words, it was a few months after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. I was immediately taken back to a moment during that horrific time when I found myself kneeling in front of my television, completely overcome with waves of uncontrollable sobbing. I kept looking at my dear Sugar Bear, and imagining being suck on a roof with her for hours and hours that ran into days and days, and having NOTHING to feed her. NOTHING to keep her cool or warm. NOTHING. Imagining her cries of NEED, and not being able to GIVE. That ability to completely be helpless had never been so imaginable for me. I promptly began packing up nearly everything in my house that wasn't nailed down to send to someone....anyone......everyone that needed it. It was an irrational, and completely disabling moment of realization of our true vulnerability.

I can say without any hesitation that becoming a PARENT changed me more than any other event in my entire life. It opened my eyes and my heart to the common bond all humans share. My ability to empathize with another human being increased ten fold. It has, no doubt, made me a better person.

My Life is GOOD!