** Post edit: I have been thinking about and writing this post for about a week. Even now I can't get the words right - the feelings of my heart. Reading this, you will probably get a 1/10th of the passion I feel about this subject. But my hope is that it causes you to ponder as much as it has made me over this last week. **
I am involved. Do you know that about me? I don't sit idly by, watching things happen around me. I get involved. I change things. I make my voice heard. I think these are things that a woman in Zion should be doing.
There are a lot of voices out there, very loud voices, that are declaring things against what I know in my heart to be right. These voices get a lot of attention. And there are times when I feel obligated to add my voice. My understanding of what's right. Because standing idly by is not an option for me.
Friday morning I had an ugly glimpse into the world I've been trying to avoid for so long and am very scared to venture into. The world of "other mothers." You see, I've really isolated myself here in my little world. My circle of friends is very small. I home-school my children. I am happy to live in this little bubble I've created. But as Shaelyn has gotten older, we've started to venture out from the nest. As a result, I've heard other, very different, viewpoints on motherhood.
As a Mormon, I believe in finding "nobility in motherhood and joy in womanhood." I believe the education, rearing, and nurturing of my children is my responsibility, and not one I can delegate to anyone else. I would like to think this is a universal ideal held by all woman, but sadly, I believe it is only a small minority of us that feel this way.
Friday morning found me sitting in the lobby of Shaelyn's ballet school, waiting with Rachelle during her 45-minute class. She was making up a missed class, so the other moms sitting in the waiting room were complete strangers to me. I felt no need, and soon no desire, to strike up a conversation with these moms. This was my time with Rachelle. 45 minutes to read stories, eat graham crackers, play with her new-and-very-beloved "puppy," and whatever else she found herself wanting to do.
But I was sitting there. So inevitably I heard the conversation going on between these moms. This was at 10:00 on a Friday morning, and these were all stay-at-home-moms, just like me. They were all moms of 3 or 4-year-old little girls, just like me. But listening to them talk, we couldn't have been less alike.
"Ugh! Is anyone else totally annoyed that school has been cancelled this whole week because of the snow and ice? I mean, I pay $330 a month to have my child occupied 3 days a week. And instead, she's been home with me every day. And what's the preschool going to do about it? Do you think they're going to reimburse me part of that money? No! So now I'm out money and annoyed that I've had to deal with my daughter all week this week..."
"Oh, I know what you're saying. I've had two kids home this whole week. Whining and crying and getting on my last nerve. Thank goodness I was able to send my older one to school today. Who knows what I would have done. Can you imagine having your kids home all the time?"
"Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but here goes... I'm 13 weeks pregnant and NOT happy about it. This was totally NOT part of the plan. I wanted my daughter to be in school full-time before we had the next one. I'm due in July, so now I'm going to have two kids home all summer and I'll have to deal with them both. Why did this have to happen to me?!"
At this point, the conversation turned to work-outs at the gym, who's gaining and losing weight amongst their friends ("I mean did you see her at the gym yesterday? She must have gained 10 pounds over Christmas..."), and the all the latest trinkets, gadgets, and vacations money can buy.
I was so thoroughly disgusted, and even more profoundly sad, that I didn't know what to do. Luckily at that point, Rachelle was more interested in going up and down the stairs of the lobby than sitting still, so I didn't have to sit and listen to any more. But my mind was racing as I chased a laughing, happy, energetic toddler around and around and around.
Why did these women have kids in the first place? Out of societal obligation? Were they genuinely excited at one point to become a mother, but have been jaded over time? Are they just burned out and found a commiserating ear to dump on? And these poor children. Do they feel loved, truly loved, or more like a burden? Do they get more joy out of being at home with their mothers or during their preschool/ballet/playgroup/structured activities?
As the 45-minutes came to a close and Rachelle and I packed up our play things, the most outspoken of the group of moms approached me and asked when I was due. I told her, and she asked, "So you have a daughter in our ballet class this morning, this one here, and one coming in 12 weeks? Are you OK with that?"
I looked her square in the eye and told her I couldn't be more elated. That I love being a mother, and I hope to have more children. I told her nothing else would make me happier.
She looked at me with a mixture of pity and a look that said I was out of my mind. I'm sure she was thinking about things like "but what about your "me" time?" and "how can you stand having all those children at home all the time?" and "what kind of a life is that?"
But I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. For what she's missing out on. For this great miracle that Heavenly Father has given us, to bring children into the world and teach them and mold them and watch them and play with them. She may be a "mother," but she has yet to find the nobility that is in motherhood.
I left the ballet school that morning determined that I would be a louder voice for all that is noble of motherhood. I can't live in a vacuum with my children forever, much as I would like to. Eventually, I am going to be more surrounded by this "other" idea of motherhood. I hope I have the courage to speak up, to share my joy and my elation that this is my life. That I wouldn't have it any other way. That I'm not looking forward to the day when my baby chicks leave this nest, whether for 7 1/2 hours for school 5 days a week, or permanently as they go off to become adults.
As I've been thinking about this all week, I've been very grateful for good friends who feel the same way. Who are voices in their own right, who share their own joy that they find in being a mother. Thank you for sharing that light. The world needs your voice.
