Mother and Daughter
Author: Dale Hanson Bourke
We are sitting at lunch when my daughter casually mentions
that she and her husband are thinking of starting a family. "We are 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 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 cubs. That an urgent call
of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a souffle or her best crystal
without a moments 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 woman's at McDonalds will be 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 the 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 now that 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 cesarean scar or shiny stretch
marks will become badges of honor. My daughters 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 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 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 said.
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.
"Thy father and thy mother shall be glad, and she that
bare thee shall rejoice." -Proverbs 23:25