In 2005 I was honored to have a piece I’d written about motherhood included in one of the fabulous Chicken Soul for the soul books – EVERY MOM’S SOUL
The essay was called MOTHERHOOD: A TRANSFORMATION and it seems fitting I reprint it here today for all the Mom’s who read this blog.
“Once upon a time I was a nurse, a writers, and a wife.
Then one day, I had a child. I became a mother.
Added to the list of things I previously was, I became: a chauffeur, a cook, a dresser, a wiper of dirty faces, a cleaner of soiled diapers, a retriever of thrown socks, a finder of lost shoes, a doer of homework, an insomniac. I was a referee in toy wars, a slayer of nighttime dragons, a soother of nervous school jitters. I was a room mother, a den mother, a leader of Girl Scouts, and one day, mother of the bride. I calmed tantrums and bolstered fragile egos.
With each passing day my talents grew.
I became a baker of cookies, a sewer of Halloween costumes extraordinaire. I could braid hair in the time most people wash their faces. And I could smile even when I didn’t want to.
Where once my body had been my own to do with as I pleased, it now belonged to someone else. It became : a breast to nourish at, a shoulder to cry on, a lap to sit and cuddle upon. My lips became kissers of boo-boos, my hips the transporters of small, squirmy bundles. My feet were now used to walk the floor at all hours of the night, my arms became a cradle. I grew eyes in the back of my head and my hearing went supersonic.
Once upon a time my name was Peggy.
Then I became a mother and had as many aliases as a con man. I was, at various times, Mm, Ma-ma, Ma, Mommie, Mom, Mother, MOTHER! and for a brief period of mental vexation, Peg.
My mind, which used to flourish with egocentric thoughts now became filled with irrational ideations. What if she falls out of the crib? What if he chokes on his food? What if I do or say the wrong things? How will I know I’m a good parent? How will I know I’m a bad one?
My house, once so orderly and tidy became a disorderly jumble of toys and stuffed animals, dried peas and empty, strew formula bottles; a carpet of clutter and chaos; a dwelling of disarray.
My heart, once only given to another, was now taken from me and filled to the brim, bursting with devotions and love.
I was a MOTHER. I was an icon. I’d done something no man had ever done, accomplished a feat so death defying and magical that many wouldn’t attempt it.
I became a MOTHER.
And, in so doing, I became all that I was, all that I ever wished to be.
~ Happy Mother’s Day