She Loved Her Babies

Last week I attended the funeral of Bertha Riddle, the wife of my husband’s  Philosophy Department colleague, Chauncey. Though I only saw her at twice-yearly department parties, I was always drawn to her bright smile, her sincere interest in others, her confidence and joy. I was also totally impressed that she was the mother of thirteen children and I never once heard her complain about them.

At Bertha’s funeral I learned she was a brilliant woman, a talented musician, and an able administrator, serving in demanding positions in the church and community. But as her children stood to speak in praise of her, this is what I heard, over and over: “My mother loved her babies.”

Bertha came from a generation of women who knew that raising children was the most important job to be done. She devoted her life and her considerable talents to that task. She taught them to sing, taught them to love learning, taught them to love God.

It made me think about why loving babies is so important, why spending a life in that service mattered so much. It made me think about the ways loving babies differs from other loves—say for dogs.

 Lately I’ve been hearing a lot about couples choosing to have dogs rather than babies. The NewYork Post reported in 2014: “Data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention show that a big drop in the number of babies born to women ages 15 to 29 corresponds with a huge increase in the number of tiny pooches owned by young US women.”

Ann Patchett, who is one of my favorite writers, detailed why she wanted a dog instead of a baby.

Who can’t look at a baby and a puppy and see the differences? You can’t leave babies at home alone with a chew toy when you go to the movies. Babies will not shimmy under the covers to sleep on your feet when you’re cold. Babies, for all their many unarguable charms, will not run with you in the park, or wait by the door for your return, and, as far as I can tell, they know nothing of unconditional love. (This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, p. 75-76)

I have loved a dog too--our cute shaggy Frodo. His joy at my approach and his comforting presence gladdened and consoled me. I can tell you hundreds of stories of how darling and devoted he was.

But, there are differences.

A baby is more work than a puppy. An adult dog is more work than an adult child.

A puppy never grows into a teenager who will talk back to you. A dog never grows into an adult who is a better person than you are.

You can teach a dog to fetch a ball (though we never could teach Frodo to give it back to us). You can teach a child to read, to play the piano, to think and to listen and to give.

A dog will wag his tail when you come home. A child will eventually hold a job, and pay taxes and social security.

A dog loves you unconditionally. A child will love you and care for you when you are old.

A dog can make your afternoon better. A child can grow into a person who will make the world better.

I understand that raising a child is expensive and hard. I know all about the nights without sleep, the worry and the fear. Sometimes a child will not grow up to be the person you had hoped. 

Still, though I understand the appeal of loving a dog, nothing is more important to love, to devote our lives to, than loving and raising a child. I’m glad I knew Bertha Riddle, for the way she loved her babies.

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