Not Ready

Tomorrow M goes into daycare. Up until now, she's had a nanny and stayed in our house, but our nanny got another job. And I don't want to quit my job, so day care it is.

I'm a nervous wreck tonight. I cried as I was putting her to bed, because she has no idea what's going to happen tomorrow. I'm going to walk away from her and leave her crying in a strange place with strange people, and stay gone for several hours. Right now I feel like a terrible, terrible person.

Rationally, I know this is ok. Is, in fact, going to be GOOD for her. She's one now, she needs other babies to play with and the stimulation of a new environment. Our apartment is too small; she doesn't have a lot of room to play. I trust the day care we've selected; I'm very pleased with the curriculum and I think it has a lot to offer her. I also think that after an adjustment period, she'll be fine and she'll actually quite enjoy it. I'm just afraid that the adjustment period is going to be MONTHS instead of weeks, and to be perfectly honest I'm more afraid for my sake than for hers. I know that crying won't hurt her; I know that no matter how long it lasts it won't be long-term traumatic; I know that it will benefit her development.

But none of that seems to carry as much weight as knowing that tomorrow, I'm going to leave her crying.

I can't reconcile myself to that. When she cries, I react viscerally. Before anyone else could, I could distinguish the meaning of her different newborn cries. I've spent the last year running to her as soon as she starts crying, and I've always been able to make it better. It seems a horrible contradiction, completely counter-intuitive, to purposely ignore her tears.

Motherhood is a continual process of separation. From the moment they're born, our babies move away from us. It's the way it's supposed to happen, and really, it's what I want to happen. I want M to grow up to be an independent, secure woman; I want her to continue to become the delightful little person that she's meant to be. But tonight, I want to hold her to me and not let go, to make sure that she doesn't cry and knows that she is my beloved.

Everyone's Child

Watching the Virginia Tech tragedy unfold over yesterday and today, all I can think is, "Each of those victims is someone's child."

Since Miette was born, every tragedy or misfortune that I see reminds me that motherhood is synonymous, to a certain extent, with pain. Every day of this world, mothers live with the knowledge that our grasp on our children's safety is incredibly tenuous. I do everything I can to ensure Miette's safety, health and happiness - and in the end, ultimately, her fate is out of my hands. I can't control what the rest of the world does to this child who means the world to me, and today in particular I find that pain especially poignant.

I think the whole of humanity has a duty to treat one another gently, to work towards the end of making everyone safe and whole. But I also feel that I, as a mother, have a particular obligation to make the world a better place, even though my contribution is infintesimal in the face of the world's problems, becasue I want the world to be a better place now that Miette is in it.