Empty Nest, Part One: The Birth of a Mother

Motherhood is many things, partly interpreted through the media, partly through the expectations and history of one's family, partly through the stimulus/response randomness of daily life.  It is an amalgam of all of these, and more.  It is also comprised of the dreams of the mother, the past longings, the long ago decisions of 'when I'm a mother, I will/won't...', and the great responsibilities and fears that the actual experience engenders.


Many of us try very hard to be good mothers, to be the best we can be.  We are never quite as good as we might want to be, or have dreamed of being, but still we aspire to do better, be better, make our child's upbringing as valuable and special as possible.  


We are given the gift of, and responsibility for, precious, helpless beings that possess our hearts from the moment we are aware of them sharing our body.  Our body changes as does our sense of self, our view of the future, our dreams and goals.  We are forever changed, forever a mother. And if we are fortunate enough to bring the child safely into the world, a permanent shift in paradigm occurs in the heart and mind of the mother, and the world is never, ever the same again.  One mother, Elizabeth Stone, says:

“Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”

Yes, it is.   For the first time, the mother is no longer able to be self contained and to know all is well as long as she takes care of herself.  Her happiness, her future, her 'heart' is off on it's own, making independent decisions and drawing the attention of Fate.  She is out of control. Children change quickly and wholeheartedly.  Once content with a Happy Meal and cartoons for a big adventure, once able to fill an afternoon with a shovel and pile of sand, a child suddenly needs money and i.d. and transportation and time away.  Mom lags behind, shuffling forward into an unknown future while looking back at the sweet memories.  And, is often vilified for the delay.  'C'mon, Mom, get with it!', 'Mom, I don't like that anymore', 'No body does that anymore, Mom' replaces 'Play with me, Mommy', 'Read me a story', and 'Up, Mama'. And, then, all too soon, they are gone.  Off to college, off to their own apartment, off to travel the world.  At each subsequent milestone, a hero party celebrates the child's accomplishments, a loving tribute to hard work and growing up.  Congratulations, cards, gifts, money, flowers, balloons, all for the growing child. And, there, back there in the shadows, is the mom of the past, smiling through her tears.  Hating the passage of time.  Wishing to scoop up a muddy little one and, laughing, head to the bathtub.  She has become obsolete. She has been forceably retired from the greatest, most important and all consuming job she has ever known.  A career that has defined and redefined and meant the world to her. No party, no cake, no cards, no gold watch.  She is expected to simply deal with the loss, the emptiness of heart and home and driveway and washer.  It is seen as a natural part of life.  Then, why does it feel so unnatural and painful?