He is lying in his crib, kicking his little legs, tiny arms flailing, his face scrunched deep in thought, hi mouth opened to scream. You wonder what is wrong with him. He could be hungry, his stomach might be hurt, he may simply be trying to go to the bathroom. Also, it may be all of the above. You'd like to turn and ask the opinion of the person standing next to you, the father, but you know he's not there. Being alone and totally responsible, that is being a single mother.

You walk endless miles back and forth from the living room to the nursery, back and forth, the rug beneath your feet wearing thin. Your back aches, your legs are rubber, but there's no one to take over, not even for a minute. You find that you talk to yourself during the 2:00 am feeding, just for some company. That is being a single mother.

You are watching a couple on television, smiling ear to ear with the news of a pregnancy. The happiness of the father-to-be makes you cry, while you sit on the couch, with aching arms rocking your son to sleep. Ugly thoughts surface; his father is God knows where getting drunk with this week's bimbo. That is being a single mother.

The look of disapproval on the faces of those around you when you use your food stamps, strangers who think you are going for a free ride. In reality you have never had a rougher job in your life. There are no days off, you can't call in sick, you simply can not blow it off. With too little sleep, barely time to eat, long hot showering out of the question, life becomes a blur. You become a bookkeeper, a cook, a secretary, a taxi driver, a doctor, a disciplinarian, and a teacher all in one, and all at once. there is never anyone to count on but yourself. That is being a single mother.

You bite your tongue when you talk to the person you hate on the phone, because the sound of concern in his voice is urging a cynical laugh. You know that he has never spent more than a few hours of time with the baby. The mention of child support brings up, again, question of paternity, and, again, the reminder he never wanted to be a father in the first place. You fight back tearsas he casually talks of girlfriends, parties, and freedom. You start feeling guilty for that few seconds you questioned your decision to keep the baby. That is being a single mother.

Yet you are the one that sees his first smile, you are the one who hears his first word. His first steps are to you, and only you. Bedtimestories, inquisitive walks in the woods, baking cookies on a rainy Saturday afternoon, these are also yours. Your little boy comes to you, and only you, for safety and love. Doesn't that make all the loneliness and hardships disappear? For these things, too, are being a single mother.