On Motherhood

Giving birth awakens something in women - a change of sorts in the values we keep, in what we respect and consider important. What struck me most on motherhood, without mentioning the demands and sacrifices involved (sorry - had to mention those!) is the willingness that comes when one is ‘in demand’. The energy that comes the moment labour begins, the crowning and burning, convinced your body simply won’t give passage. And then you see the miracle, slimy, puffy, blue-hued fingers, eyes that barely open - yet a mouth that opens wide. The baby needs you, relies upon you for nourishment and a sense of belonging. The amazing way in which one so small can impact on the way you feel about yourself, the way instinct takes hold – truly is incredible.

You have suddenly become so important, so beautiful in their eyes and so vital to their existence. The bullshit that once seemed to bother so much, now seems so unimportant – the small stuff, insignificant in comparison to this precious work of art.  It’s called family. Spirits bound by love - the building blocks to life. In sixteen years I have been blessed three times with the breathtaking task of giving birth. There is nothing quite like it, nothing more spectacular than seeing a child born of you and your partner – a tiny person of flesh, bones and spirit – from ourselves to become ones-self.
With breastfeeding, the bond for lifelong attachment begins.  It's an extension of the birthing experience - and one that, if possible, should never be missed.  Ever noticed how a newborn knows where to find a nipple, knows the scent of mother's milk? It's called instinct.

Creating life is a beautiful thing.  A gift. And there is nothing more delicious than nibbling on tiny toes, losing yourself in those trusting eyes, wiping the muck from a delicate nose, or massaging scented lotions into the soft creases of chubby thighs. Nothing more spectacular.