Mother is not a flowerSomeone once said, "A woman who chooses a life of motherhood is like a flower that dies to bare fruit. You may produce a delicious sweet juicy fruit. But than again it could turn sour. Or be eat away by bugs and animals. And possible picked too soon or too late. The future for the fruit will never be predicted by the flower. Is it worth wasting such fragile beauty?" I have my own hang ups on motherhood but I find this statement ( as enchantingly put as it is) ignorant. A flower is fragile yes. But we don't see it's strength, as it fights off wind, as it stands tall in harsh rain and heat. It goes all through this to bare a fruit. The fruits future is as it will be. Undecided until born. Like a child. In case you don't know where I'm going with this, women who choose to be a mother are not weaker for it. Most are stronger than any working woman or man. I doubt most people could handle a moms job. Dealing with a child 24/7 every day of the year. Some more than One kid. And how they came
The FeelingThe feeling.That...feeling.Of goodness and sparks.For me it's anticipation.Like stepping out at a cliff and peering down.Or up into the blue Sky after a rainy day.I feel it in the back of my neck warm and tingly.I want to clutch something tight in my hands.Until they hurt.My hands, I want them to hurt.I want the pain to validate my feeling.That it's not a dream.This feeling is really happening.To me.It comes in waves for me.Sudden.Than I ease in to it.It always feel good and bad.It's great.That feeling.It's rare so I treasure it.Locking every little moment away in my memory.It's my treasure.Always.