As I anticipate the earthly birth of the tiny human growing inside me, I trip over the idea that I will also be born a “mother” through the experience of her birth. A love without limits has always flowed through me and it’s been my deepest hope that the abundance of that love would eventually be given to my own children one day. I just love to love people and the people who come through me will never be able to outrun my love which already surrounds them. Maybe that’s why I took pause when a dear friend harmlessly mentioned that I would soon be “transformed” into a mother, as if before I wasn’t and now I am only because a child sits in my arms. I thought of my Aunt Ruthie, my mother’s godmother, who never bore children of her own but was every bit of a “mother” to the child who needed her attention the most, my mother. I thought of countless mothers on New York City subway trains who curse, humiliate and berate their children in public out of their own unchecked pain. I thought of mothers of rape who love in-spite of an injustice. I thought of the mothers who birth babies only to hand them to someone else. Can motherhood truly be summed up as a transition or transformation? By that logic, who crosses over and who doesn’t? Are we born as mothers or are mothers later born?
In my life, I know many mothers; and, I know many sister-friends who are surrogate mothers in spirit. All struggle in their realities of the children they were given or the absence of children they want. I was part of the latter. I was hopelessly devoted to the belief that I was already a mother, just waiting for a child. There was no need for a physical transformation. I was born a mother. My mother was part of the aforementioned former. She was not born a mother but, through her choice to have me, was transformed into the best version of a “mother” possible for her. I’ve been able to recognize that ability to become something you never wanted to be – and succeed – is more admirable than many women are often given credit.
There are women who are able to have children easily and unexpectedly, but for some, their hearts and mind were not truly ready for motherhood – and all it entails. When does their transition begin? Could it begin when, they see themselves as the centerfold of humanity – women who raise compassionate humans who raise more compassionate humans. Could it begin when, they replace their pains of the past with an unwavering commitment to their child’s God-given potential. Or, could it begin when, these women awaken to their intentions that they became a mother in order to fill a void within themselves, or in their lives.
Without judgement, only in mindful prose, we meet back at the beginning – are we born as mothers or are mothers later born? I can only commit to the idea that love transforms us. No matter the vessel of love, physicality of love or consequence of love, we are never the same once we fully love another human being. I believe being a mother is a state of mind, a state of mindfulness. How much love are you willing to give, without asking for any in return…that’s a mother.