Throughout my pregnancy, I imagined having time on my hands while raising my baby. I’d get stuff done while he napped. “What was the big deal about breastfeeding?” I thought, “Surely I could work on other things while he nurses. I could do sit-down things like reading, or computer stuff, or sewing.” I saw how busy my sister was with her newborn but I was sure that wouldn’t be me. I had spent years multi-tasking, running a theatre company, working a day job. The only thing on my plate now was being a full-time mother. The hardest part would be figuring out how to spend all the extra time I’d have—“but, wait,” I thought, “I’ll have my PhD work, that’ll make it so I’m not so bored during the down times.”
Oh, Hubris, why you gotta play me like that?
The other day as I went through the daily emotional roller coaster of ‘tearfully joyful’ to ‘dream-crushingly overwhelmed,’ struggling to get things done around the house while trying to be singularly present for this incredible new person, I had a horrific self-realization:
I’ve spent most of my life under-estimating and under-valuing the work of child rearing—It’s no wonder I have a less than enthusiastic attitude toward it.
I have an incredible friend with a large brood of wonderful children. She has been raising them as a stay-at-home Mother for the past thirteen years. For her, I’ve only ever had words of admiration and awe for the countless hours of self-sacrifice, love, and energy she’s given to her work. I’ve agreed with her that she is doing the most Important job on earth. But looking back, I didn’t really believe that. I used to believe the Important work was that of Art and Commerce and Medicine and World Peace. Humbled by the firsthand experience of being a Mother, I’ve finally caught on that good Mothering is the foundation upon which Art and Commerce and Medicine and World Peace stand. I reckon that anyone who’s ever had a spouse, a boss, a partner, a co-worker, a friend, or an appointment at the DMV will testify to the unparalleled Importance of a Mother’s work.
Acknowledging that I’d spent so much of my life believing anything otherwise was a first step in adjusting my perspective. I’m working on letting go now of the subtle resistance I’ve had toward this matter-ful work. I relish the beauty, the play, and the blessedness of mommy-hood, but I’ve been shamefully guilty of sighing through the burdensome bits, wishing I could be doing something more Important (as if that existed.) I’m now interested in approaching parenthood as a holistic, dynamic thing and managing the burdensome moments as I would those in any Important project that I love and want to see flourish:
By cherishing the Process.
Just today, I looked down at my five-month-old son, naked on the changing table, and wondered how soon I could start potty training him. He looked back at me with the most beautifully open smile I have ever seen and a magical voice from the purest place in my heart asked, “What’s your hurry?”
