Some mothers simply don’t feel maternal in the way society expects them to. Often these women feel like there’s something wrong with them — they’re not living up to the expectations of a Jewish mother. Can motherhood be expressed in different ways?

By Miriam Kosman

Part I: I Mind, You Matter

M

otherhood is put on a pedestal in Judaism.

This works well for the women who are naturally nurturing, who love small children, and who might choose kindergarten teacher as their dream job.

But what about those women whose teeth are set on edge by board games, who — even as they’re inspired by the image of happy children braiding challah with their calm and patient mother — would find doing so a minor form of torture?

What can we say to women who aren’t naturally attuned to the joys of being around small bodies and minds, who, though they love their children deeply, find the thought of spending years and years picking up Lego and spooning applesauce into little mouths daunting?

For some mothers, it might be comforting to remember that while those early years of hard physical labor, little sleep, and constantly being on call that early childhood demands are fundamental, they’re not the sum total of the mothering mission. Mothering continues during the teenage years and goes on after your children are married, and each of those periods of life require completely different skill sets.

Sometimes, those mothers who are not that great at toilet training and pushing kids on swings excel at schmoozing with teenagers or being supportive of their young couples. It’s reductionism of the highest order to frame mothering as diaper changing and bedtime stories. At the same time, it is equally dishonest to ignore the fact that parenting requires years and years of sometimes tedious, often draining, always demanding work, and the sacrifice of many, many druthers.

The Ultimate Treasure

Why is having children such an ultimate value in Judaism? And make no mistake about it — it is. Bearing and raising children is probably the most cherished and important thing a Jew can do. Halachically, having children trumps almost everything else in importance.

One reason is because when we have children we’re doing what Hashem adjures us to do in Devarim (30:19). By having children, we “choose life.” Choosing life is not a slogan. It’s a minute-by-minute commitment not to be lulled into a vapid stupor by the onslaught of superficiality with which Western society indoctrinates us — where quality of life is synonymous with comfort and not too much noise or mess. “Choosing life” is holding on tightly with both hands to the idea that life is quality.

The Midrash, in a play on words, tells us that the verse “Kol neshamah tehallel kah, every soul will praise G-d,” can also be read as every breath (neshimah) praises G-d. Each and every breath of a human being — just being alive — is a validation of the greatness of G-d who wondrously enables an eternal soul to reside within a finite, physical body. This is true even without a person’s conscious awareness — how much more so if they fill their days with acts of kiddush hashem, i.e. struggling, however unsuccessfully, to give expression to that soul — which we hope and pray our children will do.

It’s not a coincidence that the more secular a society becomes, the more their birth rate plummets. The desire for children is a direct result of being in a passionate relationship with G-d. If life has no ultimate meaning, then we live, we die, and we try to have some fun in between — and children, certainly many children — are not all that conducive to fun.

But if life has meaning, then I’m on a mission and the nature of a mission is to spill outward into other lives. A life seriously lived overflows into a desire for children.

Hashem promises progeny to Avraham “Because I know that he will command his children and his household after him to guard the way of Hashem” (Bereishis, 18:19). The burning desire to touch the future makes the clearest statement about our relationship with Hashem in the present. Children are a spillover of our passionate relationship with Hashem into the next generation.

People, Glorious People

The gift of children is the gift of being granted a chelek in yishuv ha’olam, of populating the world with human beings who will lift this world out of purposeless anarchy and bring it to a place where His greatness is revealed. “Not for chaos did G-d create the world, but to be populated with civilization” (Yeshayah, 45:18).

And however many children we bring into the world, we’re told never to be satisfied. Rashi in Koheles (11:6) tells us, even if you learned Torah in your youth, keep on learning even when you get old. Even if you gave tzedakah when you were young, keep on giving it when you get old. And even if you are blessed with children, never consider the ones you have now enough.

As Rambam famously tells us, each and every additional child is a vast and infinite opportunity to bring the world to its ultimate purpose: “Even if you have other children, adding one soul to the Jewish people, is… compared to building a world” (hilchos ishus, 15:16).

For someone who values life, there is nothing this world has to offer — not the most worthwhile career and not even opportunities to spiritually influence others for the better — which can compete with the immensity of having children.