Motherhood

 
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 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, 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 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.

                                                                                                                 - Author Unknown


I came upon this story yesterday and it stuck with me.  It puts into words what has been on my mind lately.  Becoming a mother has been the most wonderful and heartbreaking experience of my life.  There is nothing I've experienced that comes close the spiritual experience it is to bring a child into this world.  And I will forever be grateful to my Heavenly Father for allowing me the chance to experience it.

There are so many hard days as a mother.  Days where I second guess my self as a mother, wanting only to do what is best for my children.  There are times where I lose sight of myself, I'm so consumed in raising my children and everything that comes with that day to day.  There are days I cry at the end of the day in frustration and with a humble heart.

There are so many wonderful moments as a mother.  The moment, Hannah my first learned to crawl. The moment Bella let out her first laugh.  The moment when Charlie looked at me and smiled the biggest smile for the first time.

Being a mother, I feel as though everywhere I go motherhood and it's importance are being undermined. The other day while I was at the Doctors office, the nurse asked me what surgeries I had had done as part of my medical background. I was very surprised when she asked me if I had tubal ligation done.  I do not know if this was standard but this was after I had mentioned I had an older child who was not with me and was not on birth control.  It's as though people assume since I now have both genders I should be done.  Someone once told me I should be done having children because I always looked so tired and drained.  And that I couldn't handle having any more.  It was like a slap in the face.  I know they didn't mean to make me feel bad and meant the best but it stung.  It made me rethink my desire to have more children but then I realized, yes I am tired and drained but I am giving my whole heart and self into being a mother and that is a calling I have been given and I will be done when the Lord says I am.

I recently told my mom that it was hard to find time to feel the spirit with how busy I am.  But I have come to realize that by living my life the way I do, I am testifying of the Savior and our Heavenly Fathers love and there is nothing more I would love to do.  The spirit lives in me and is most definitely a part of my life as it helps to direct me in my parenting.  On Sunday our lesson was about, "As Man is, God once was.  As God is, Man may be."  What better way can I become like my Heavenly Father but to be a parent and create myself.

I have such a a testimony of motherhood and of how it changes us all, and for the better.  We desire for the world and ourselves to be better.  It makes us vulnerable but I think in the greatest way possible.  Because isn't that the essence of love?  Being humble and vulnerable.  I will always, always be grateful to my Father for giving me this calling.  Motherhood has changed me.