I don’t usually post things like this, but I couldn’t help but share this. My mom printed out an email she got and let me read it, without prefacing it with anything. This email put in words what I think every mother feels, but sometimes hard to describe. Now that I have a daughter myself and one on the way, I cannot imagine the day when they will become mother’s themselves and experience the wonderful feeling that motherhood is. So, here’s the email, enjoy….
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.
Than an urgent call of “Mom!” will cause her to drop a soufle 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 all right.
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 as a restaurant will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of everything, 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 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 cesarean scar of 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 thinks he 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 the mere mortal women who stumble their way into the most wonderful of callings. This blessed gift from God… that of being a mother.
- Author Unknown
She climbed right in and got settled with milk and paci.
While I’m sure that won’t last long, I’ll take it! It’s such a bitter sweet moment to have her in her toddler bed. She’s one step closer to being in her big girl bed, and out of the nursery. No longer a baby, now on her way to be a big sister. This is just one of the many changes coming her way over the next couple of months and to see her take the change to well, makes this mommy so happy! Yes, a small victory/stop, but I’ll take it. 
Good job Callie Boo- We’re so proud of you!
She went potty!! Not only that but she acted like it was no big deal! I had no expectations of our potty experience but so excited that she decided to go! Now, we’ll just wait and see what the rest of today brings us, fingers crossed, but not holding my breathe!
