And Still I Rise

I got this in an email a while back but yesterday I learnt that my childhood friend is having a baby so I am sharing this with her and you as well.

Thoughts on Motherhood
>>
>>
>> A conversation between friends.....
>>
>> 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?"
>>
>> "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 friend, 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. That an urgent
>> call
>> of "MOM!" will cause her to drop a souffle or her best crystal without
>> a
>> moment's 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 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.
>> However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess
>> herself
>> constantly as a mother.
>>
>> 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
>> - not to
>> accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish
>> theirs.
>>
>> I want her to know that a caesarean scar or shiny stretch marks
>> will become badges of honor. My friend'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 willl fall in love
>> with
>> him again....for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
>>
>> 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. "You'll never regret it,"
>> I
>> finally say. Then I reach across the table, squeeze my friend'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. The blessed
>> gift
>> of God ........that of being a Mother.