By Doula Jen
I’ve been a mother for almost ten years now, and I still thrill at answering to the name “Mommy.” Whether whined or whispered or sung off key in earnest tribute…I love it. It is an iconic, all-important word. How cool that it belongs to me.
Though I’ve held them in steamy bathrooms during bouts with croup, though I’ve sat on soccer fields and in dance studios, procured endless pairs of glasses and read bedtime stories…”Mommy” still surprises me once in a while. Though I am a normal, healthy, accomplished adult and a caring parent, the title tends to remind me that–alas–I am a grown up.
It’s one of the great joys of doula work to see you folks—those who may not feel like grown ups quite yet, those who have always carried an old soul—become “Mom” and “Dad.” Though you slowly learn how to parent your way, asking questions and making up poop songs, you are instantly there—answering to Mommy or Papa or Ma or Daddio. You own it completely.
May the word itself, with all the accompanying weight and wonder, stop you in your tracks today. Think, “Hey…Mommy…that’s me.” And then stand a little taller. Mommy is a darn good thing to be.