The world is full of women blindsided by the unceasing demands of motherhood, still flabbergasted by how a job can be terrific and torturous.
This is part of the essence of motherhood, watching your kid grow into her own person and not being able to do anything about it. Otherwise children would be nothing more than pets.
Can women imagine anything finer than to experience centuries and millennia with the beloved husband in a cozy home in reverent attention to the inner workings of creative motherhood?