Page 150 of The Trouble with Flings

They exchange a knowing look.

“Because after you’ve given birth twice, you have a fairly good idea about what to expect,” my mother says.

“And you’re so busy taking care of the first two, you don’t have the mental bandwidth to worry about one more thing,” Margot adds.

“Have you started getting nervous about the birth yet?” my mother asks.

“Not really. I mean, I am going to have give me an epidural tattooed on my stomach next week, in case I’m not coherent enough to scream it when I’m in labor.”

They laugh.

“I think Fitz will be able to convey that message for you,” Margot says.

“Is it weird that I’m more worried about what happens after the baby’s born than about the birth itself?”

“Not at all,” my mother says. “Your whole life is going to change.”

“In ways you never imagined,” Margot adds.

“That’s what I’m worried about. What if I do things wrong, or if I do them right and still somehow get it wrong?”

They exchange another knowing look.

“You will get things right,” my mother says. “And you’ll also get things wrong.”

“Great pep talk, Mom.”

“Oh, honey. I’m just being honest. Sometimes getting it wrong will gut you, but that just makes you try harder next time. That’s how you learn to be a parent. Lord knows I did a lot of things wrong with each of my kids, but you all turned out pretty darn great.”

“I don’t remember you doing anything wrong,” I say.

“That’s the mark of a good parent,” Margot says. “That means your mom did enough things right to wash away the wrong.”

I think about that for a minute and think about the students I’ve dealt with over the years, and Holden. Kids do a lot of wrong things, but when they make the effort to do better, the good usually does help wash away the bad.

That makes me feel slightly better. I take advantage of their undivided attention.

“What if…?” I hesitate, trying to figure out how to explain something I barely understand myself. “I worked really hard to become who I am and to get to where I am in my career. This might sound selfish, but what if I lose myself in all this?”

“That’s not selfish, honey,” my mother says. “It’s reality. You will lose yourself in this.”

“Wow, okay. Way to scare me.”

“You’re not going to suddenly disappear and become a whole new person, Jennifer,” she says. “But of course motherhood changes you. We live and breathe for our babies before they’re even born. We make life choices and put our own needs aside. That doesn’t change when the baby is born. It becomes stronger.”

“That’s true,” Margot says. “The love you have for the baby will be so overwhelming, you won’t care about losing yourself…until later.”

“That’s not very reassuring,” I say.

“Remember when Jayla had Thane?” my mother says. “She loved being a mom from day one, but the transition was hard for her. One minute she was an independent athlete with total control over her own body and career, and the next everything revolved around the baby’s schedule. Your whole center shifts, and sometimes you might resent that and then feel guilty for resenting it.”

“And that’s okay,” Margot says. “But you have to talk about it with your partner. I didn’t, and that’s part of what led to me and Alexander separating.”

“It did?” I ask carefully, not wanting to pry but needing more of an explanation.

“Yes. There were other, bigger things that led to the separation, but that was part of it. We found out I was pregnant right after college, before we were married,” she says.

No wonder she accepted our news in stride. That makes me feel better in a way I didn’t know I needed.