A woman is never entirely her own. From the start, when she is born in the world, she is her parents’ daughter, her siblings’ sister. As she grows up, she remains bound to her parents. When she becomes a wife, she is bound to her husband – seeking the good of her husband, supporting, helping, and serving him in whatever way she can. She gives up her right to individuality and privacy when she becomes a wife. She exchanges her surname for his and her body ceases to be her own. When she conceives, her body accommodates the growing little human inside her; giving the child everything it needs to grow. For nine long months, she subjects herself to tests and examinations that expose her, probe her, and poke her to ensure that the child is growing comfortably inside her. When the time comes for the child to be born, she endures the pain and labor of childbirth to deliver the child into the world. When her child is born, she takes on a new role: a mother. As a mother, she gives up sleep and comfort to take care and nurture her child all the while taking care of her husband and managing their home. She would put her family above her, making sure that everything is in order and that no one is in need of anything.

A woman is never entirely her own.

Which probably explains her tremendous capacity to love.

This has been a recurring thought which has been fueled all the more as I study the physiological changes that occur in women during pregnancy. Today, I watched a couple of videos of women giving birth on YouTube and it really isn’t as glorious as seen on TV. Childbirth is messy, bloody, and difficult – its only redemption being in seeing your child alive and well at the end of your labor. I couldn’t help but cringe at the sight of a child coming out from a small orifice and the bodily fluids that come with it, but I am amazed at the strength and resilience women have to be able to endure such a difficult ordeal. Women are truly amazing.

Labor Day indeed. 😄


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