> >>> 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
> >>> souffle or her best crystal without a
> >>> moment's 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.
> >>>
> >>>
> >>> Please share this with a Mom that 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.
> >>>
> >>> The Best Things In Life Aren't Things
Gloria
