Broke Wife, Big City
Is
motherhood really the
toughest job?
By Aprill Brandon
I’ll never forget the
moment I became a mother.
Unlike many women, it
wasn’t when I realized I was pregnant; in fact, I’m pretty sure I
didn’t have one single maternal feeling during my entire pregnancy.
I hated being pregnant.
Passionately.
Sure, it had its perks.
Eating cheeseburgers in bed, for example. Or eating fried chicken in
bed, for another. Or just having my husband bring the entire contents
of our fridge into bed, laid out buffet-style.
But even when I felt my
baby kick for the first time, or saw him on the ultrasound, I still
didn’t feel like a mom. I didn’t know this kid. We may have been
sharing the same body, but he was more like the weird roommate I
never saw but knew hadn’t moved out yet because of the mess he left
behind in our “apartment.” Our bloated, sweaty, gigantic
“apartment” that was permanently carpeted in sweatpants and my
husband’s old T-shirts.
It also wasn’t, like it
is for many women, the first time I held him. By that point, I had
already been a mom for a good hour. So finally getting to gaze upon
his beautiful (and very red and angry) face didn’t magically
transform me into some sort of Earth Mother Goddess. It just
transformed me into a manically laughing/sobbing madwoman for the
next 20 minutes.
No, the moment I became a
mother was when the doctor left it up to me how to proceed after 33
hours of labor. Putting it plainly and without getting too deep into
my lady-part details, the doctor explained that I had to decide
either to keep going with labor even though I was still barely
dilated (better for me but more dangerous for the baby, since his
heart rate was beginning to drop), or to have a C-section (better for
him but more dangerous for me since I’d be ripped open from my
pelvis to my boobs while they poked at my intestines with sharp
sticks…or whatever they do during a C-section…I don’t know, I’m
not a doctor).
I told them I wanted to
discuss it with my husband first but I already knew my answer. Or
course I knew. If you’re a mom, you already know too.
“Let’s go with the
C-section. I’d rather be the one in any kind of danger.”
And that’s when the nurse
confirmed it.
“Spoken like a true
mother.”
That’s when I became a
mom.
Now, let me be clear, I
don’t write this to try and make myself sound like some kind of
selfless hero over here. My decision, in the halls of the maternity
ward, was common, if not downright mundane. I was only ever in danger
theoretically. Like, in worst case scenario terms. I mean, come on.
“Woman Chooses To Have C-Section. Film at 11.” It was something
the medical staff did not only every day, but multiple times every
day, safely and efficiently.
(Not to mention, my other
choice was to push a giant watermelon out of my hooha, so…yeah. No
big damn heroes here, sir).
And it was the same
decision millions of other moms have made given similar
circumstances.and that’s the point.
Being a mom, at least in my
limited experience so far, means that it’s no longer about you. It
means that every decision you will make from here on out will answer
the question “what is best for my child?” And it means that from
here on out you will make those decisions a thousand times a day
without even noticing it because it becomes second nature to put
their needs first.
So
while everyone on the Internet is currently debating whether
motherhood is the toughest job there is, I can easily end it by
definitively saying no, being a mom is not the toughest job there is.
And that’s because the
question is wrong.
Being a mom isn’t a job.
It’s who you are. And who you will always be.
It can’t be quantified.
So, sure, you can list all
the things moms do on a daily basis and how much a mom would get paid
if she collected wages for being a chef, a chauffer, a coach, a
teacher, an accountant, a boo-boo kisser, etc, etc.
But being a mom isn’t
about keeping score.
It’s about
being willing
to have your body ripped open and all your insides exposed to the
outside world, both literally and figuratively.
Can’t get enough of
Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at
http://aprillbrandon.com/
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