Tribute to Mothers

This week my sister gave birth to her second son, and my sister-in-law found out she was pregnant again. So in honor of them, I am publishing this post. I have been meaning to share this with all mothers before, but I haven't taken the time to type it out. However, this is something that my mother-in-law, Gina, found in a publication and wanted to share with me one Mother's Day. Her note to me was: "This touched my heart and soul - eloquently expressed many thoughts throughout the years that I have had. Thought you might enjoy as well. You are a beautiful mom" Love, Gina

Thank you Mother

We are sitting at lunch when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of “starting a family.” “Mom, 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 with asking, “What if that had been my child?” Every plane crash or house fire will haunt her. When she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child become sick or even 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 a primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. An urgent call of “MOM!” will cause her to drop 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 to 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 a five-year old’s independence and becoming a man will be weighed against that possibility that someone in that men’s room could be lurking around looking to hurt that five year old child. 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 that 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. She would rather give it up in a moment to save her child, but will also begin to hope for more years – not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her children accomplish theirs. I want her to know that a caesarian scar or tiny 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 that bond she will feel with other 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 child’s future. I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike, or that pain of sitting on a cold hard bleacher instead of your car at a soccer game so that you can hear your child ask, “ Hey, mom, did you see me make that goal?” 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 very first time. I want her to taste the experience of giving birth that is so real it both hurts and brings intense joy in the same breath. My daughter’s quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. “You’ll never regret it,” I finally say to her. Then I reach across the table, squeeze my daughter’s hand, and say a silent prayer for her, for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. This blessed gift of God…that of being a Mother. (Author Unknown) ***So take a moment to reflect on what a great joy it is to be a mother, and keep up the fantastic work!