What a woman really is, nobody knows, least of all herself.
To see a woman as she really is, one must see her with her babe. For

It is curious, but it is true, that not even before the passionate and
accepted lover to whom she has utterly devoted herself can a woman bare
her heart as can she to her babe. Perhaps we may go so far as to say
that

Motherhood always partially eclipses wife-hood:

When the child comes, the man stands aside. For

It is not within the capability of man to evoke or to develop the
totality of woman. There are feminine potentialities he is powerless to
awake. There is a portion of womanliness always hidden from him. To her
babe alone she opens the innermost recesses of her soul. For him she
wears no masks, affect no accent, plays no part. Even her features take
on a different and unique expression before the offspring of her womb.
Never is she more womanly, never so strong, never so quite, never so
self-contained, never so completely herself, and never so beautify when
bending over her helpless infant son. And naturally: for say what one
will,

Motherhood is the goal of womanhood. And

Howsoever she comes by it, a woman's burthen is always to her "That Holy
Thing". So

No one knows what a woman is like till she is a mother. In other words