So, everybody says, "Your life changes when you start having kids." This is not really helpful, since you already know that, but there is no way you can really know just what that REALLY means or how you should prepare for it. Everybody says, "Get all the sleep you can, before your baby is born", but that doesn't help either, since a pregnant body is not the best vessel to spend long restful nights in. Some people say your life is over when you start having kids...now that's just an outright lie... the way I see it, anyway.
All of a sudden she was there - our little bundle of joy. After months and months of preparation, anxiety, expectation and excitement...but what now? It struck me on the second last day in hospital - I am a MOTHER! For the rest of my life and irrevocably, a mother. What does that even mean? I started looking around for clues. In the bed next to me the 'second time mom' was talking to her newborn the whole night. 'I don't have so many words', I thought. Opposite me the other 'second time mom' radiated a calm serenity, her life was complete. 'I am not calm!' I thought. The heeby jeebies started running up and down my stomach. "If I ran now, would anybody notice?"
At home it didn't take long for us to make a panic stricken phone call to the mothership - "Come sooner, please! A.s.a.p.! Tomorrow if you can!" All help and supoprt were accepted, asked for, demanded!
During the next few weeks I was thoroughly introduced into the world of cabbage leaves, nipple cream, bumb cream, sleep deprivation and question marks. No time or space for inhibitions or privacy. That seemed to be over for good. But every time our little girl would look at me while feeding, yawn and stretch or even just lie there peacefully, it made all the effort seem like a distant memory. No, really. I probably would not have believed this before either.
Pretty soon Mother's Day came. I still hadn't been able to define what a mothe rwas/ is, but the acknowledgement of being one sure felt good on that day.
I think I might be gradually moving closer to a definition now. I see a mother in every kind word, in every ear that listens, really listens, in every unselfish act of service and in every soft touch. I don't think the capacity to mother is only dependent on actually having delivered a baby. Some people naturally mother, others have to be stretched, pruned, grown into being one. I am probably the latter.
There is still much more to it than that, but this is what I have so far.
Suddenly I am so thankful for this rough opportunity to be stretched, moulded and tested. Hopefully the mother in me will gradually grow to be someone I will be able to describe and get to know well.
