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Re: Up For Adoption
Aye, that we do....I had this in an email the other day and it is sooooooo true....
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 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 long er 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, 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
exhilarationof 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 h er, 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 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.
Aye, that we do....I had this in an email the other day and it is sooooooo true....
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 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 long er 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, 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
exhilarationof 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 h er, 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 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.
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