I love giving birth, it’s the mothering that’s hard
I was 9 months pregnant with my first child and standing in line at the grocery store when the lady behind me started talking to me. “How far along are you?” I was over these kinds of conversations, I was sick of talking to strangers about my pregnancy, but I smiled and said “ Due in a few days” and then she said something that has always stuck with me “I love giving birth. It’s the mothering that’s hard.” I love giving birth. I had never heard anyone say that sentence and I was raised by a mother who had been a midwife.
When I was pregnant with my first I thought the finish line was the birth of my baby, little did I know that that was the beginning of the lifelong marathon of mothering. Early on in both of my labors I entered what birth workers fondly call labor land; I stopped communicating with the outside world and connected with the rhythm of my contractions. An image of being alone on an old wooden ship in rough seas stayed in my minds eye the whole time; I will come to dry land when the baby is born. I enjoyed the opportunity to shut out the outside world and connect deeply with my baby and my body. Nothing else existed in those moments; just my body birthing my child. It turns out; I love giving birth.
It’s mothering that’s hard. Since become a mother I’ve woken up every morning with the looming question “How? How am I going to do this today?”. Manage tantrums, cook breakfast, figure out something for us to do and then again figure out something for us to do and then again figure out something for us to do, and then try to clean the house or do the laundry or pay a bill. And then there are the spontaneous stressful moments; rashes appearing out of nowhere all over my child’s body or hearing my 5 year old use a curse word at the playground. And there’s always that looming question that just hangs over everything “Am I doing this right? Are my kids going to be ok? Am I shaping them into good people? ” The pressure and the stakes are high. I love my kids and it is that love that fuels my life.
Being the mom in my little family is truly the hardest most important work I’ve ever done and each day I strive to give my kids a childhood that will be a solid foundation for the rest of their lives. The problem is, motherhood doesn’t come with a manual and I find myself making it up as I go. Recently I was reflecting on my mothering style (whatever that may mean) and I think you could boil it down to this : I make sure my kids go outside every day and I tell them I love them about 100 times a day. That’s it.
In the last few months my three year old has taken to walking over to me and out of nowhere saying “You’re the best mom.” Does he somehow sense I need the reminder? I do not know. But it does help.
