Private Conversation

Categories: Blog,Caregivers,Families,Seniors,Uncategorized

A Baby…Maybe?

We are sitting at lunch when my friend 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?”

I say carefully, and with keeping my tone neutral, “it will change your life”.

I know, she says, no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations,…!

You don’t know what you don’t know…

Unfortunately, that is not what I meant at all:  I look at my friend and I try to decide what to tell her.  Does she really want to know?

  • Does she want to know what she’ll never learn in childbirth classes;
  • Does she want to know 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;
  • Does she want to know that she will never again read a newspaper without asking “what if that had been MY child?”; that every plane crash and 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; and
  • Does she want to know however decisive she may be at the office, she will second guess herself constantly as a Mother.

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think; no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a Mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub.  And that an urgent call of “MOM!!!” will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moment’s hesitation.

Warning there’s trouble ahead

I feel I should warn my friend 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 everything is alright.

I want my friend 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 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.

Womanhood vs. Motherhood

Looking at my attractive friend 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 of her own life – not to accomplish her own dreams but to watch her child accomplish theirs.

I want her to know that a caesarian scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. I want my friend to know that her 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.

Mother’s change the world

I wish my friend 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 friend 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 friend’s quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes and I say,

“You’ll never regret it!” 

I reach across the table, squeeze my friend’s hand and offer a silent prayer for her and for me and for all the mere mortal women who stumbled their way into this most wonderful of callings – – being a Mother.


Start using today to organize for tomorrow


Author: Julie Slayton