I’m writing one last paper for this quarter, for my graduate degree, as we speak. As I write – as I procrastinate. Now, truth be told, I still have two more classes to complete, but seeing as a lil’ caramel’s going to arrive sometime in the next month or so, I’m taking summer quarter off (to attempt) to learn how to be a mama. I love learning, and I love writing, and I love then merging the two of those “loves” together [and in this particular paper, I look at Jesuit author, psychotherapist and spiritual director Anthony de Mello who, to put it in a nutshell, combined his own eastern (Indian) culture with western (Christian/Catholic) thought. And was praised for it. And got banned from the Roman Catholic Church for it. So where does that leave us today? Hence, the paper.]
But the learning curve is high in in this class, aka: the class called mama-hood. Yesterday I had my best conversation yet with my new friend, Mr. Postman:
“Wow. You’re pregnant. When are you due?”
“Sometime in the next month, I think. I hope.”
“Well, let’s see, you must be having a boy! I can tell. I’ve had four. We just kept trying for that little baby girl, but she never came. Of course, I’ve got all boys and no girls in my life, as my wife and I are divorced now – know anyone who’s single?”
[Yes, this really did happen.]
“Hmmm. No. Could I get a money order?”
Proceeds with the money order for camp deposits.
“You know, it’s the funniest thing, though: you go to the hospital, and they treat you soooo nice. They give you ice-cream, and they take care of your baby, and they let you sleep – so take advantage of it! And then they kick you out after a couple of days and just expect you to know what you’re doing with the baby!”
And after he said that last little nugget of wisdom, I stood there like a deer in the headlights – that’s right: they trust me. The nurses and the doctors trust that I’ll know what I’m doing with this little piece of heaven called my baby. (And oh, the thousands each day that are “trusted” with this role!)
So I suppose that’s what I’m excited about: I’m excited to be entrusted with this role, even though I feel far from prepared and far from adequate and far from professional at this newly to-be-learned role in life.
So cheers! As I’ve mastered the fine art of writing a 3500 word paper in eight hours, so someday I’ll at least be operating enough in survival mode to see what I have learned about mama hood along the way. (Because will parenthood ever be “mastered”? That I doubt).
Waiting, waiting, waiting,
Cara “I still have 2000 words left to write” Meredith.0