Not Sure I Want to be a Mother

Woke up this morning and barely made it to the bathroom before tossing my cookies. I can’t imagine going through another eight months of this. My mother-in-law warns me about all the weight I’ll gain and the pain in giving birth. And my body will never be the same. Is it too late to change my mind? Not sure I want to be a mother.
* * *
After 14 hours of labor and some complications, I’m heading for a caesarian section to pull my baby from my belly. Not looking forward to the surgery, the pain, or the months of recovery. Is it too late to change my mind? Not sure I want to be a mother.
* * *
Midnight and the anesthesia is finally wearing off. My stomach is flatter, so I ask the nurse if I can see my newborn. He’s beautiful, perfectly formed with ten fingers and ten toes. And in a few days I’ll be home with him, totally accountable to feed him, clean him, train him, teach him, and help him grow into a man. So much responsibility. I’m scared. Is it too late to change my mind? Not sure I want to be a mother.
* * *
The babysitter is a grandmother with other children for him to play with while Mommy and Daddy are at work. Brian looks at me with tears in his eyes. I sob as I walk out the door to my job, earning a paycheck we need to pay for our house and food for the family. But my heart stays at the sitter’s. Is it too late to change my mind? Not sure I want to be a mother.
* * *
The school nurse calls to let me know that Brian threw up and I need to pick him up right away. All of a sudden, my schedule for today changes, and I have to drop everything, take time off work, and get him home to sleep in his own bed. But it’s what I do. I’m a mom, and moms always take care of their children, no matter how it inconveniences them. Is it too late to change my mind? Not sure I want to be a mother.
* * *
We’re sitting in uncomfortable seats watching our son in a cap and gown march down the aisle with his classmates, preparing for the next chapter in their young adult lives. That may mean paying for college, which is more than we can afford. Or letting him find a job and move out of the only home he’s known his entire life, leaving behind an empty room and a mother with a broken heart. Is it too late to change my mind? Not sure I want to be a mother.
* * *
He now has children of his own and I love watching him play with his girls,

Brian laughing with his daughter
hug them, and laugh with them. It’s especially fun when they act up like he did when he was their age and he tries to discipline them. He looks at me and says, “Mom, how did you deal with it?”
I chuckle. And I’m glad I didn’t change my mind. It’s the best job in the world. I’m a mother.
Check that – I’m a GRANDmother. That’s my reward for being a mother.