A Mother's Love

On Friday, Chris, Hayden and I went to our storage building to pick up a load of items for the house.

As we drove in, I noticed a bird sitting in the middle of the gravel, almost completely camouflaged in the grey and white granite. As we drove towards her, she took off running to the left of the car. As she rose and began teetering off, I saw four tiny baby birds pop up from underneath her and scatter to our right. My attention, however, was focused on the Mother bird. She was fleeing as fast as she could, but my heart sank as I watched her totter left and right, fluttering her wings, obviously injured. We slowed down as I contemplated what our choices were if we decided to try to help her.

Suddenly, I saw her wings and tail straighten and off she tore, whole and healthy and unhurt. What on earth was that about, I wondered? Just then, as I turned to check on her brood, it struck me. She was luring our attention away from her babies long enough to ensure their safe getaway, even if it meant risking her own life. Once she knew they were in the clear, she dropped the ruse and fled for safety herself. I was amazed to see in this tiny bird the same ferocious desire to protect her family as I feel burning in my own breast.

As we left, we had to again disrupt the family gathering that they had unfortunately chosen to locate in the center of the drive, and as mama and babies scurried off, I couldn't help but admire her bravery, and feel compassion for the terror I'm sure that struck her when she saw our great beast of a car approaching her little clutch. I was again awed by the selflessness of this mother to risk her own life to save her children, but I knew that were Hayden and I ever in the same situation I would without hesitation lay down my life for hers. That is, I believe, the price of becoming a mother.

That little bird family was such a beautiful expression of how my life has so quickly changed. I've heard many times people say that once you become a mother, your life is no longer your own. I've interpreted that many ways over the years, but never truly understood it until I was holding my wee one in my arms. My life is hers in a sense you can never explain to someone who is not yet a parent. It doesn't mean that I won't ever tell her "no", that I won't make time for myself or my hobbies, that she'll be given every little thing she wants. It's not like that at all. Somehow, growing her inside of me took part of my spirit, my soul, my heart and irrevocably intertwined them with hers, just as my mother is joined to me.