Birthing Awe

Why is it so difficult to write about motherhood without becoming sentimental, emotional, and ‘Hallmarkish’? How does one write about the most wonderful, most awful, most creative, most banal, most exciting, most boring, most joyous, most depressing, most overwhelming, most tedious experience ever braved? Babies are born every day! We are all the sons or daughters of someone. Why do I think I need to write about this everyday experience as though it is a divine aspiration?

Still, there is nothing banal about a life, a person! Each birth is a remarkable miracle, an altogether new and original individual. Repetition doesn’t exist in motherhood....

Yes, motherhood is composed of many, many sacrifices. And just when you think you’ve got it down, the children are all grown up, you think there are no more sacrifices to be made, you find out you are now required to start sacrificing your need to mother. Life is so ironic. Still, even with the sleepless nights, the long lists of tedious tasks, and the endless emotional demands of motherhood, you start to develop a sense of awe.

[via Abstract Mind]