One must be very brave to bear and raise a child.

It is amazing to me how radically our life is changed by a few pounds of bone and flesh and life-giving fluids, a squealing, shrieking, unattractive bit of life that we immediately accept as beautiful, absolutely unique of all who have ever been born and can accommodate our being, our habits, our routines, and our life forever.

It is considered “normal” to react in this positive way.

How much of ourselves we lose is in our control. No, not really, the needs, health, personality of the newborn can be in conflict or in unison with our needs, health and personality. Some newborns are far more demanding, born sick, deformed or just out of sync with Mom’s plan. And so it goes; all are changed due to varying circumstances.

The older I become the more I wonder as I look at a newborn: How could your Mom be so brave?

Of course, when I was young and in the process of bearing and raising five distinct, unique, beautiful human beings -- this thought never occurred. I didn’t feel brave at all! I felt busy, at times harried, challenged, creative, and purposeful. It was a fulfillment to a life’s need, a maiden’s prayer, a dream come true.

It was what my life’s main theme was to be.

Even if a late pregnancy at fourty-two increased the years that I would be the mother with children at home, I was surprised to find that it seemed like a very short time had passed when one by one they were out of the house. They belonged to the world and I rejoiced.

The attachments were still strong, but with their youthful needs for me fulfilled, I was free -- released to pick up pieces of self and go back and pick up pieces of what I had started in times B.C. (Before Children).

I know I gave a piece of myself to every child. We all leave a piece of ourselves with those we encounter or get to know. Our children are just a much bigger part of the equation. We can walk out of their lives and they can walk out of ours, but never completely

Momdom is transforming and forever. 

Labels: raising children, Ruth Scott

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