When I told my friend Roxanna, many months ago, that we were expecting, she said. “You are becoming your child’s parent. You will forget how you were before.”
“How was I before?”
“Before you are your parents’ child.”
Last week my pregnancy reached full term. This means our child can be born at any time; that his lungs are developed enough to breathe air.
Everyone looks at my belly and says, you are about to pop, you must be so ready, especially in this heat.
Excited, happy, but also unsure. And a little scared. Right now, I know exactly where my son is, and that he is safe. Soon I will be mom for the rest of my life. I am happy to just be Beth for a few more days.
My mother says that there is a kind of love that you don’t understand until you are a mother yourself. This always irritated me. It seemed untrue. In ways, it seemed unkind.
Lately, though, I’ve been wondering if she might be right.
Maybe that love includes some for the birth of your own new self.