<p>I saw this on another forum and thought the moms here would appreciate it. As a dad, I particularly related to this line: “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.”</p>
<p>BEING A MOM</p>
<p>We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of “starting a family.”</p>
<p>We’re taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?'</p>
<p>“It will change your life,” I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.</p>
<p>“I know,” she says, “no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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 souffl</p>
<p>Well, I’m not sure whether to thank you for making me cry at this hour of the day! What a beautiful description of the biggest job any of us will have.<br>
I didn’t have the discipline to keep from running home!</p>
<p>I remember the look on my mother’s face when I told I was pregnant. It was the strangest mixture of joy, sadness, excitement and fear. She knew what was coming, and just like any mom, wanted to spare her daughters all of the hard times. She couldn’t spare us the hardest time – when we lost her 14 years ago.</p>
<p>Thank you for that. How true. It applies to the fathers here too, And, that maternal/paternal surrender lasts a lifetime, make no mistake, regardless of the children’s age.</p>
<p>Wow, like sjmom, I have tears streaming down my face! Thanks, audiophile, that was beautiful. As the mom of 4 Ds, I look forward to the day that I have that conversation with each of them with great anticipation and joy.</p>
<p>And, tell her how much she’ll miss her children when they leave home for college! I don’t know how I’m going to handle it when my senior daughter isn’t at the dinner table every night, isn’t coming to the grocery store with me–her arm hooked in mine, isn’t sleeping in her bed. Shoot, it’s going to be awful!</p>
Although it may be one of the more mundane paragraphs in the piece, I have to say that the look on my son’s face when he finally mastered his two-wheeler is one of the most enduring memory imprints I have.</p>
<p>Yikes, my cheeks are soaked Thank you for sharing such an eloquently written piece that speaks to all of us moms. I’m impressed as a dad that you have shared it, and identified with how moms feel. </p>
<p>All of the words in it are so true. Zeroing in on the part that YOU quoted:
has been on my mind lately. I actually cry when I read anything about Emily Keyes in Colorado (the teenager killed in the Colorado school shooting), the brilliant college math student found in the river in British Columbia, the UVM college girl who is missing at the moment last seen walking back to her dorm, and so on. Given I have kids that age, I can’t imagine their parents’ heartache and also know that the randomness could have been my own children. A year and a half ago, when my own child lay in intensive care from a car crash, it was one of those times when you think, these things can never happen to me. But indeed, there I was, watching monitors 24/7, full of SO much anxiety. It wasn’t any longer something I had read about that happens to others. The ten days I lived at the hospital, I saw soooo many kids and teens in both intensive care and then later in pediatrics who had terrible diseases who very possibly will not make it to adulthood. I knew I was lucky. Then, while there, I read of another teen my D’s age who had a similar car accident in my region who died. I didn’t know her but cried because why did my child live and that one did not? It is all so random. My kid had another chance at life as she eventually recovered and a lot of things that could have gone very wrong along the way, worked out favorably. So, everything is relative. I am a lucky mom (not that I ever wish this experience on any parent). So, I read these terrible things happening to other children and young adults and it is pretty upsetting, even though I don’t personally know them. They could have been my child. </p>
<p>Anyway, every other sentiment is so very true. It is like your own self takes a big backseat. Everything that matters is the children. Donna, it is so hard when they leave home…hard to get used to for sure. But even though they are not part of the daily routine at home anymore, the rest of being a parent is STILL there. They are part of our lives constantly but just on the phone, etc. I think our children are part of our dinner conversation every single night!</p>
<p>When I read those kinds of things I sort of feel bad that I only have boys, and then I sort of feel relieved…The fact that I think it is different for them – it is though, isn’t it?</p>
<p>That is all so true. My daughter thinks I’m a freak because I take every tragedy to heart, but I’m going to show this to her so she’ll know that someday she will too. </p>
<p>I’m just going to miss her so desperately. I remember when I was about 8 months pregnant with her, I was watching my favorite tv show at the time, Designing Women, and the episode where Charlene had her baby was on. In the show, Dolly Parton came to Charlene in a dream to tell her that she was “about to meet the best friend you will ever have, the person who will hold your hand when it’s your time to go.” I was so touched by that episode that it still resonates with me. I wanted a girl in the worst way and we weren’t able to find out ahead of time. I actually wore pink every day of the pregnancy. When she was born, the doctor took a minute before making the announcement, and my husband says (I don’t remember this) that I went for the doctor’s throat, screaming “Is it a girl?” I am so blessed. </p>
<p>On a side note, with all the missing college students I’ve been noticing lately (since I’m about to have one), does anyone think it’s weird to have daughter take a self-defense class befoe leaving home?</p>
<p>zoosermom, I don’t think that it’s weird at all. All four of my Ds have taken a self-defence course. Try to find one which not only instructs them in the physical aspects of self-defence, but also discusses the mental things which are necessary to keep themselves safe, e.g., being aware of your surroundings, keeping safe while walking, taking public transit, driving, etc.</p>
<p>I agree that a self-defense course makes sense. But I especially agree with alwaysamom’s codicil that mental things which keep you safe are equally or more important. Two critical ones - (1) be with a buddy at vulnerable times, such as at night and after drinking; (2) realize that drinking affects the sharpness of your judgment and the sharpness of your reflexes. </p>
<p>I am struck by this commonality among missing young adult women (and a colleague of mine lost her daughter this way a few years ago). They have been out partying. They leave the company of their companions to stike out on their own, even if it is just to walk the short distance home or to meet up with another set of friends.</p>
<p>I am NOT blaming the victim. But our daughters and sons need to have us drive home this aspect of the truth that they are NOT invincible. They may not be drop-dead drunk, but they don’t realize how vulnerable they are. And then… one minute they are here, the next they are gone. Without a trace.</p>
<p>Awwwwwwwwwwwww, Audio, didja HAVE TO??? I get this piece about once every few months in email, but it never ceases to turn me into a BLUBBERING FOOL…<em>sniffle, blows nose</em></p>
<p>marite~</p>
<p>I love that Elizabeth Stone quote too. One of my favorite quotes re: childbirth/motherhood is actually from one of Erica Jong’s fiction works, “Fanny.” I can’t remember it exactly, but it goes something like this:</p>
<p>Having a baby is like being doubled, then halved, and then you never feel whole again…</p>
<p>Gawd, I think i’m down to about 1/12 now…<em>sigh</em></p>
<p>sob…I have one. He left in August and is too far away. I am so much the better for having shared his first 18 years, but, right now, I almost wish I didn’t love him so very much.</p>
<p>I like your story about doubling, and then being divided in half (or sixths!!).</p>
<p>I think becoming a parent is like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis. It’s a kind of growth and development that makes us fully human, although it also has it’s share of grief. People I know who don’t have kids just really don’t understand. But there’s something about being totally responsible for raising another human being that just changes us forever. I feel that there’s a kind of innocence, or naivete, that we lose once we’ve had kids.</p>
<p>Maybe it’s the dry winds down here…I didn’t care for that audio. It was chock full of fear, anxiety and impending disappointment. I have those emotions but they are not my overriding feelings about motherhood. To the contrary, my motherhood has been such a RUSH. </p>
<p>I tell prospective mothers to get ready to feel love and happy like you’ve never felt them before–for your baby, for your husband, for yourself, for mankind and for the earth.</p>
<p>Tears are flowing, hadn’t cried for a few days, soo miss by baby girl who went away to college this year. Good tears though, nothing better than being a parent, but oh the heart does ache!</p>
Thanks, audiophile, that was beautiful. As the mom of 4 Ds, I look forward to the day that I have that conversation with each of them with great anticipation and joy.</p>
If only that halving dealio applied to weight??? <em>ROFLMAO</em> </p>