The Labor of Childhood

She stood in the shower, dripping wet, grumpy and cold. I asked her, “Would you like the white towel or the yellow?” Nothing but an angry stare is my answer. Reaching for the yellow, I see her viciously shake her head and utter a growl. The white towel it is, then.

In the process of enveloping this little three and a half year old body with a fluffy white towel, my mind is brought to memories of the births I have attended in the past. All of those women, unable to utter what they want, only communicating through vicious shakes of their heads and guttural noises.

Transition.

The hardest phase of labor. The hardest phase of childhood. That short period of time of intense change. The ugly, hard, ferocious inner-workings that precede the ultimate metamorphosis. It always feels like it will never end. It creates doubt and anxiety and some fear. But, in looking back, we can always see that it was then, during that ugliest time, that a persons’ inner strength emerged and brought them fully into who they were meant to be.

Whether mother or child, transition is necessary for growth.The half ages for children are like the transition phase of labor. So much happening inside the body that we do not see. The mind, the nervous system, the limbs, the joints – everything breaking down and re-growing into a new, more mature, better capable little person. While we are in the middle of it, the child and the parent begin to fear that it will never end! The cold fingers of fear and anxiety run down the backs of mothers while they try and brush away the thoughts of, “What has become of my child? Will she ever be that sweet little girl again?” You feel overwhelmed by the shortness, the snapping remarks, her inability to know what she wants. But, remember the laboring mother. It doesn’t last. She doesn’t need fear and doubt from you. She needs the reassurance that she can do this, she *is* doing it. That this won’t last forever. That she will soon see some wonderful things. Help her get through and you will be rewarded.

One day, you see signs of the new little being. Coming a little at a time. Two steps forward, one step back, until she emerges – this new creation of beauty and strength and capability. Mothers breathe a sigh of relief. She’s here! Celebrations ensue, grocery store excursions are now a possibility, she amazes you with new words, new skills, such mature reasoning.

You sit back and relax. And forget that it will come again.