What They Don't Tell You About Mothers...

When you're about to become a mother, you're bombarded with stories and advice from those who have "been there, done that". You read all the textbooks your doctor gives you, all the books your mommy friends recommend to you, all the magazines...and yet, you know, deep down. You're not prepared. You know nothing.

And then that little one comes into your life and you're thrown into the maelstrom of motherhood; and only then do you begin to understand exactly how much you don't know.

Other mothers try...but they simply can't tell you.

They might tell you that you will get no sleep. You expect to be up with the baby through the night, and tell yourself you can get used to the sleep deprivation. And what do you know, you do! And after a few months of desperation, deliriousness, and finding yourself crying more than your newborn does, you even begin to enjoy those midnight feedings and the chance to be alone with that amazing little person - to cuddle him and watch his little face...and you probably cry and whisper prayers of thanks to a Heavenly Father who loved you enough to give you this experience. To force you to come to a new reckoning of what 'selflessness' really means.

What they don't tell you is how the baby isn't even the real issue in sleep deprivation. It's all the times you wake up in a panic, and hold your breath and listen so hard to see if you can hear the baby breathing. How suddenly you've become a light sleeper, and you are on your feet every time the baby moves or sighs or yawns. How sometimes you wake up not even in a panic, just because the new mother in you has to check on your sweet baby, because he might be cold or too warm or, heaven forbid, so cute you would be missing this if you were sleeping. And they don't tell you about the dreams. About how now that you are a mother, every danger imaginable that could harm your baby or your husband in any way haunt your mind in your sleep...and soon, during the waking hours as well. They don't tell you that far more often than you would like to admit, you recognize a potential danger in everyday life, the scene unfolds in your mind against your will, clutches you at your chest, fills your mind with panic, and then leaves...but leaves a permanent mark on your psyche. You are now a mother - a newly born worrier. But you keep these worries to yourself, because now, as a mother, your insanities are your own.

They may tell you that everything is different, but they don't tell you - they don't even come close to warning you - that everything is different. You expect that everything will be different, obviously. You have this new person in your life now that wasn't there before. But they don't tell you that YOU are different. Your perspective is different. Your attitude is different. Your tastes are different. You used to love action movies, but now you can't stand them because in that great car chase scene, three cars blow up. There were people in there! Somebody's father/son/brother! And the tragedy of it makes you cry, and the fact that nobody seems to care about those people in the car makes you angry. And the TV commercials! TV Commercials make you cry. Commercials about adoption, third world hunger, diapers, kids excited to go to Disneyland, McDonald's...they all make you cry!

They tell you that your body won't be the same, but they don't tell you how different your body will feel to you. On the one hand, you'll feel battered, stretched, bruised, twisted, and knotted in ways you have never felt before. Your curves will change, you'll find curves in new places, things that used to be more curvy will be a bit flattened...you'll have marks and scars that will label you a veteran mother. On the other hand, you'll look at your body and feel powerful, unconquered, majestic. You will recognize that there is nothing that you can't do, and so you might as well do it all! Your body is incredible and undefeated. You are stunning.

They tell you that you will love that little baby more than you think is possible. But they don't tell you what that love does to you. They don't tell you that your capacity for love, for giving, for understanding, for sacrifice increases to such a degree that you find it unbelievable that your mortal body - stunning as it is - can contain it. They don't tell you that when your little one looks into your eyes with absolute innocence and trust and acceptance and love, you can actually feel your heart bursting in your chest, and you can feel all your troubles, all your concerns and uncertainties and fears about life, the world and your place in it sluff off of you, and all you're left with is possibility. Possibility and that tiny, perfect little hand wrapped so meekly, yet so strongly around your finger.

They don't tell you how you fall in love with your husband all over again every time you see him playing with your baby. The way he changes the baby's diaper, the way he feeds him, the way he dresses him in the morning, so gently. They don't tell you that you become so overwhelmed with amazement that you are lucky enough to be married to this amazing man that you can't speak. All you can do is smile at him and feel the bursting in your chest, again.

And they don't tell you that in every new stage, with every new challenge, every new joy and every new experience that you get with the package deal of motherhood, you begin to understand your own mother a little bit more. You begin to recognize in new ways her unfathomable strength, her strong character, her unfaltering will, and her unchallenged love for you. You begin to understand that for every tear you cry in anguish and in joy, she has cried for you. You begin to understand that every pain, every worry, every moment of absolute wonder, every bout of uncontrollable laughter that you experience, she experienced over you. You begin to understand that everything that you have given up...every task put off, every errand foregone, every personal pleasantry postponed...every dream exchanged for your baby's dreams...your mother has given up for you.

And so you begin to understand, as a mother, exactly all of the things that you never understood, and all of the things that you still don't understand about what a mother is.

And you are filled with a vast yet quiet gratitude for the depth of what it is to be Mother. You give a nod of kinship with all mothers around you, and you wear your badge of Motherhood with empathy and pride.

And you remember - always remember - the mothers who came before you who made you who you are. Especially your own.

Thanks, Mom.



Happy Mothers Day.