What does a mother do?
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
Everyone has strong ideas about the role of a mother and we could list them paragraph after page. Long ago in another lifetime, when I was taking classes in family counseling, I was amazed to discover what a therapist does — especially when doing work with children.
"That's what a therapist does?" I queried. "I thought mother's did that
Over the years, I've developed quite a list of things that mothers do. 1. Mothers protect. 2. Mothers feed. 3. Mothers guide. 4. Mothers teach. 5. Mothers mirror. 6. Mothers answer questions. 7. Mothers give comfort.
My list goes on and on. Every time and every year that I experienced motherhood, my list grew more extensive. Eventually encompassing, "Mothers know!"
Somewhere along the line I also added to my list, "Mothers butt out!" And eventually, "Mothers keep quiet." And there are more, but I won't bore you with all of them — after all, you have your own list to review.
While it's another day in the country, in Kansas, with snow coming and going, it's also another day in what I used to call country — California.
Mother — that's me, is here helping daughter with all the mysteries of birthing a first baby.
It's been 38 years since I've had a baby and believe me things have changed. Except for all the who-ha of car seats, in my opinion, things have changed much for the better.
Fathers are so involved these days. I've just stood back in awe and watched my daughter and her husband work together as a team. It started long before delivery.
They've gone to appointments and testing and classes like they were doing graduate study (which in fact they have just begun — in the most real sense). They've read articles, asked advice, and scoured books. There are more things that they know than I ever dreamed — it's truly amazing.
Even the process of birth was a joint endeavor with the new father present and coaching every step of the way. For most of this process, I also was present. It's what a mother does, right?
Once we arrived at the hospital for the big event, it didn't happen quite as quickly as my daughter anticipated. She checked off the steps and we found ourselves playing cards through hours and hours of mild labor — the kind where she was still smiling.
To be honest, I wasn't feeling particularly useful. "Is this what a mother does?" I wondered. "Shouldn't I be doing more?" But more wasn't really needed.
"Just being here is so important," said my son-on-law patting me on the shoulder. But this mother wasn't convinced. After all, we've been adding to the list of what mothers do for lots of years now and while I knew how important was number 14 on the list, "Mother's watch, observe, stand as witness," it felt too small a job.
About that time, I went into the bathroom and here on the door was a series of charts. "What You Can Do!" the chart said and then began a list of things the companion would do, phrases the coach would say. I read through them and realized what a wonderful job my kids were doing. And then came the next chart entitled "The Mother." Ah, I moved closer to read the fine print. I sighed with relief. Finally there was a list for what a mother was supposed to be doing.
I'd read several points before it hit me. "1. Squat in a comfortable position. 2. Breathe through contractions." Suddenly I realized, doubling over in laughter. This was not pointers for me, but for my daughter. There was a new mother here.
We're celebrating — add that to the list. We've a healthy little boy added to the family tree, 8 pounds, 14 ounces, 22 inches long, black hair, piercing dark eyes, mellow little fellow. It's another day in the country and "Mother" no longer means just me!
