I was sitting at shul one Saturday morning five years ago and looked all around me. I was surrounded by mothers with little children. They were tending to their children when they cried and laughed when they did something silly. They talked amongst each other about diapers and dolls and daycare. They discussed the rigors of mom life and how they were coping.
I was the only one there without a child, which was usually the case. It was an Orthodox shul; Orthodox Jewish families are notoriously large, and mothers often have four or more children.
At that point, my husband Daniel and I had been together for eight years and married for three, but we weren’t yet ready to have children. We didn’t feel prepared practically or emotionally. We had planned to start trying, but that time came and went and we never did. We got in our own way because we were worried about becoming parents.
We wanted to be in a good spot with our careers and know that we could provide for our child’s needs. Spiritually, we knew there wasn’t ever a perfect time to have kids and that the saying “babies are born with a loaf of bread under their arms” was true – we’d seen it firsthand from other couples. We knew that children would make our joyful life that much better. But still, we wanted to wait.
That didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. At shul, I often felt left out of the conversation; mothers didn’t want to seem to want to talk about anything other than parenthood. When I’d talk with them, everything came back to being a mom. I understood why, but I couldn’t relate. And even though we had plenty of other things in common, at that moment, they couldn’t relate to me.
I’d long for a child when I’d see toddlers jump on their mothers’ laps at shul and hug them. They’d say things like, “I love you so much” or “I want you, mommy.” I wondered when the day would come when I’d get to experience that same amazing feeling.
I knew that when I had a child, I’d be a great mother. I didn’t have the best childhood because I was lonely much of the time. My parents got divorced when I was five, I became a latchkey kid and my mom and dad were constantly working to support us. When given the opportunity, I was certain I would love my children unconditionally and do whatever I could to make them happy.
Daniel and I waited for a sign for something to tell us to have children already, but it didn’t come. So, four years into our marriage, we decided it was finally time to start trying. Thankfully, I got pregnant right away, and we had our first daughter in October of 2019.
Now that I’m a mother to two wonderful girls, I can say it’s the most gratifying and meaningful experience of my life. As soon as I had my first daughter, I thought, “This is incredible. Why didn’t I do this sooner?” But I also knew that God had a plan. Everything happens exactly at the right time.
Since we waited so long, I had plenty of chances to babysit my friends’ kids; I learned how to change a diaper, how to soothe a child and how to put them to bed. I knew what children of all ages liked to do for fun and how to effectively communicate with them. I read numerous articles on parenting and got advice from the women in my community who had children before me. All of it helped once I became a mother myself.
Watching my children grow and learn is one of the best parts of motherhood. It’s absolutely fascinating to witness them discovering how to turn over, crawl and then walk. It’s exciting to see how they learn how to talk and process the world. There are times when it gets tough, like when they wake me up in the middle of the night or they’re sick, but I know it comes with the territory. All of the challenges are opportunities for growth, for refining my character.
Just like those other moms from shul, all I want to do is talk about parenting with my fellow mommies.
Just like those other moms from shul, all I want to do is talk about parenting with my fellow mommies.
And, just like those other moms, I now have a child who comes up to me at shul. She busts out of the kids’ program, sits on my lap and whispers into my ear, “I want you, mommy.”
And there’s no better feeling in the world.
Have a parenting story to share? I want to hear it! Email me: Kylieol@JewishJournal.com
Kylie Ora Lobell is the Community Editor of the Jewish Journal.
