Moms

[Guest guest]

I received this this morning. I was touched. Maybe you will be to.

Also, if anyone knows how I change my address to get access to our CHARGE group

with a new email account-nfreeman@...

please let me know.

Have a Happy New Year!! I will send pictures of once my email is

switched over, this account won't let me make attachments.

Nicol Mom to 7 CHARGE and Jordan 3

We are sitting at lunch 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 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 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 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 into 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 alright.

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 Mc'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 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 caesarian scar or shiny 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 the bond she will feel with 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

children's future.

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 a 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 reach across the

table, squeeze my daughter'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. This blessed gift from God .. . .that of being

a Mother.

Please share this with a Mom that you know or a future Mom you know

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