"I am a Mother"

Talk Given by Jane Clayson Johnson for the 2006 Conference on the Family

Several months ago, my husband and I attended a dinner meeting a few miles outside Washington D.C. It was a wonderful gathering of about 75 couples, from their respective fields of business, law, education & communications. After dinner, everyone was asked to take a minute or two and introduce themselves.

What struck me as we listened was how many of the men in the room confidently and appropriately stated their professional achievements, which were impressive. Then their wives stood up -- beautiful, intelligent, accomplished women. And this is how many of them described themselves:

“Oh, I’m just a mom.”
“I don’t have any credentials, I’m just raising our six children.”
“My life’s not very exciting, I’m just a stay-at-home mom.”
“I can’t offer much, I’m just a mother.”

We heard some version of that phrase, “I’m just a mother” repeated, almost apologetically, over and over again.

Their words really surprised me. I had recently given birth to my first child and I was on top of the world. My baby was a blessing that had come to me later in life and I was excited and honored to finally accept the mantle of motherhood. I wanted to shout from the rooftops, “I am a mother! I am a mother!”

So when I heard these women saying “I’m just a mother,” I was taken aback. Was I missing something? Did these lovely women—these experienced mothers—know something I didn’t? Was it simply a matter of time before I’d figure it out? Before I, too, would believe that motherhood was somehow unimportant—more of a second job than a position of honor?

Recently, I saw an interview with Maria Shriver, the wife of California Governor Arnold Schwarzeneggar. She was explaining her agenda as the state’s first lady. She said one of her goals during her husband’s administration is to empower mothers! “How do we get women,” she said, “to stop saying, ‘I’m just a mother.’ Or, ‘I used to be such and such, but now I’m just a mom?” She continued, “I want women to say, ‘I am a mother!’ and stop” [because that is enough].

Motherhood is surely the highest and holiest of assignments. I believe it is… “the noblest office or calling in the world.”

Having said that, sometimes society pays a lot of lip service to motherhood. We give flowers on Mother’s Day and honor them before crowds. But at the end of the day, we often don’t extend the same respect as we would to a professor, an accountant or a judge. But if we, as women, don’t respect the sanctity of this divine calling, it’s hard to imagine why anyone else would. I’m not just a mother. I AM A MOTHER!

I must admit, every once in awhile I watch Oprah. And I’d like to quote “Mother Winfrey” here for a moment, because, for someone who is not a mom, she hits the nail right on the head.

“In our hands we hold the power to transform the perception of motherhood. We should no longer allow a mother to be defined as “just a mom.” It is on her back that great nations are built. To play down mothering as small -- is to crack the very foundation on which greatness stands. The world can only value mothering to the extent that women everywhere stand and declare that it must be so.

As we affirm other mothers and as we teach our sons, husbands and friends to hold them in the highest regard, we honor both the mothers whose shoulders we have stood on… and the daughters who will one day, stand tall on ours.”

***

2_ years ago, I left my television career in New York City to get married and to have a family. I had turned down a lucrative, four-year network contract, working on exciting, high profile, prime-time projects. Many of my colleagues told me I was crazy, that I was out of my mind.

When I explained to my agent of ten years that I would not be taking that network offer, that I was moving to Boston, he told me he was stunned. He said I was making a terrible decision that I would regret for years to come. “What will you be without your job?” he said. He quoted an old CBS newsman as saying, ‘Without work, there is no meaning to life.’ And then finally, knowing of my faith, he asked, “What are you going to do… move up there and teach Sunday school?” Well, as it turns out, that first Sunday in church, they asked me to teach—Sunday School.

I shared my decision with one woman who smugly joked, “Why don’t you just get a babysitter?” Another network executive asked me what I was going to do once I got to Boston. I told her I was going to have a family, I was going to be a mother. “No, I understand that,” she said, puzzled, “but what are you going to do?”

This experience has taught me one of the most important lessons of my life, which I feel impressed to share, often, especially with young women:

There are seasons in life. Don’t ever let anyone deny you the JOY of one season because they believe you should BE IN… or STAY IN… another season.

And never – never – be afraid to aspire to be a mother.

I recently met with a group of high school aged young women.

It had such a profound impact on me. I remember at one point they were discussing what they wanted to “be” when they grew up.

“I want to be a veterinarian.
I want to be an artist.
I want to be figure skater.”

Then, one young woman raised her hand … and shyly said, “I’ve always wanted to be a mother.”

May I say to the beautiful young women in this room today… don’t ever be embarrassed to express that. Motherhood is the most noble calling you will ever have.

It is hard work.
But it will bring you the greatest joy in your life.

Get your education. Go have experiences now… that will broaden your mind and enrich you as a person. But remember what is most important.

I love these words from President James E. Faust.

“Women today are encouraged to have it all – all simultaneously, money, travel, marriage, motherhood and a separate career in the world. Doing this sequentially, filling roles one at a time, at different times is not always possible, as we know.

But it gives a woman the opportunity to do each thing well, in its time and to fill a variety of rolls in her life. A woman may fit more than one career into the various seasons of her life. She need not try to sing all the verses of her song at the same time.” (end quote)

There are so many voices today, drawing -- especially women -- in so many directions, pulling us away from what is really important. I believe that from the depths of my heart.

Now that I have two little children… I often say… as hard as I worked in TV… I work harder at home! There are some days, now, when I am down on my hands and knees mopping up yet another mess, when I look up at the TV to see one of my old friends interviewing someone interesting or globetrotting on a big story and I think, “What have I done?”

But as I look into the little faces of my sweet children-- I would not trade it. Not for anything. You don’t get this time back.

I know what I gave up. And I know what I gave it up for. I traded in fancy lunches, in fancy restaurants… for delicious, bunny shaped Macaroni and Cheese. There’s no one to do hair and make-up anymore. (quite obviously!) Some mornings I’m lucky to squeak in a shower. When I get up at 4:00am these days, it’s not to be driven off to a studio.

Now, in the wee hours of the morning you’ll often find me in tucked in the corner of the nursery, lulling a little baby back to sleep. No more pats on the backs for booking exclusive interviews. They don’t give awards for best diaper change of the day. And I don’t get a paycheck you can cash at any bank. Now my rewards come in packages money can’t buy. I will NEVER regret this.

I love this thought from President David O. McKay:

“She, who can paint a masterpiece or write a book that will influence millions -- deserves the admiration and the plaudits of man. But she who rears a family of beautiful sons and daughters, whose influence will be felt through generations to come, long after paintings have faded, and books have been destroyed – she deserves the highest honor that man can give, and the choicest blessings of God. In her high duty and service to humanity, she is co-partner with the Creator himself.”

“A co-partner with the Creator himself.” I have felt that – in a very profound way -- over the last few months, after the birth of our second child.

9 months ago … on a Sunday afternoon… my water broke. Three days later, our little baby William was born three months early… at 27 weeks gestation. At his tiniest, he was just over two _ pounds.

I remember being wheeled on a bed… into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit to see him for the first time. It was 4:00 in the morning and I had just awakened from a difficult and complicated 2_ hour c-section.

I remember seeing all those little incubators -- with blankets covering them, to keep the light out of the babies eyes –and thinking they looked like little coffins lined up.

How could these babies survive? Of course, some of them didn’t.

William was in the NICU for 11 weeks. Most every day, I would travel back and forth to that hospital to delivery milk and to hold him. Some days the nurses would not allow him to come out of the isolette. And so, I would sit and look at him through the glass… With all the tubes and the tape and the wires hanging from his frail little body, there was barely a place to touch his bare skin.

On the good days, I would hold William while he received his fortified feeds through a tube in his nose. I had read medical research that showed premature babies who were consistently held and nurtured by their mothers were healthier than those who were not. The hospital recommended “kangaroo care”—putting babies skin to skin with their mothers. It was supposed to help with bonding. The doctors said it actually made the babies stronger.

For weeks, I did this. But for weeks it seemed that William still did not know I was there. He didn’t respond to me in any way. He did not open his eyes. He would hardly move. I remember so distinctly thinking: “Why am I here? Why am I doing this? Am I really making a difference?”

A very perceptive neonatologist must have sensed my sadness. One afternoon, she came over to our little corner of the unit, sat down next to me, put her arm around me, and with such kindness said: “William can’t express it right now . . . but in his behalf, let me say: Thank You for being here. These babies know their mothers. And even though it doesn’t feel like you’re making a difference . . . you are.”

Even when our children can’t—or won’t—express it. Even when the voices of the world tell us that mothering isn’t as important as anything else we could be doing. We are making a difference!

A “co-partner with the Creator himself.”
That is a mother.
We are mothers.

The next time someone inquires what you do… or asks you to describe yourself… would you say with confidence and with joy, “I am a mother!”