She had been thinking, and the thought came back like the turntable coming round, that it was hard, or anyway she found it hard, to realize that what you did was usually just done once. Once and for all. That doing something wasn't just a kind of practice for something that would keep happening, but was what would happen, was what happened. You didn't get to practice.I stumbled across this paragraph a few weeks ago. As I've mentioned, I'm re-reading my way through my Le Guin collection. This was in a book of short stories and it struck me because it sums up a lot of how I've been feeling about motherhood lately.
-Ursula K. Le Guin