The nurse devotedly uttered the encouraging words "banthu banthu banthu...", as I gathered all the energy I could, for the final push. I watched it's thick black hair and tiny little butt, as the nurse frantically stopped in midway, it's cool dive into the real world.
When I look back I remember the funny labour scene of the movie, "Big Fish". The rosy baby who literally seemed to have jumped out a couple of minutes ago was brought near me. Alone for the first time, she looked sad and puzzled. With her lip inverted, her accusing eye looked into mine. Till today I am unable to decipher that expression. Perhaps she wanted to be pacified or perhaps was out of her comfort zone. Just scared of the strange sights that she saw and the strange environment, scared of the strange me.
Detesting changes is natural. It starts right from the moment of birth.
Can't recollect if I saw the face first or saw "her" first, and there was a tinge of disappointment in me. We are a family of girls and hence myself and some were hoping for a change this time. Boy babies and boy kids remain a mystery.
Sometimes fate has a way of giving us what we need rather than what we want.
The first glimpse of the baby is what every mum awaits apprehensively for 9 months. I had assumed this would be a blissful moment with happy tears. The times when I kept poking my tummy to find a foot or hand withdrawing back on touch. Shy girl that she was and curious mom that I was :). Those eagerly awaited bi-monthly scans to catch a glimpse of the growing bundle of joy. The countless times I kissed the face caught by foetal scan while trying to imagine how the baby would actually look. And now that she was here, all that I could do was stare with exhaustion. The nurse continued to hold her close to my face till I realized and gave that expected kiss.
I was expecting a lot more emotions while I felt numb.
Looked like she was born but her mum was yet to come...
That night with a crushed tail bone, burning stitches, a crying and super hungry baby demanding to be fed every half an hour, I vowed to myself that this wont happen again to me. I gazed at the helpless, innocent babe as she suckled, only to realize, there was no escape. Cursing fate for making her girl, I wept imagining the pains she may have to bear. So there I took my first step towards it. Crying more for what she may have to face and less for what I was facing.
The tiny step taken didn't help much, and there were times plenty where I would look at her and wonder why I did not feel connected. The horrible feeling that perhaps she being there or not would not make much difference to me. More often I would get frustrated. The missing independence and lack of me-time, my lost health and sleep, the constant duty of feeding, changing diaper, the ever worst colic; I was so tired that I did not know what or how to play with her. Everything was duty, work; where was love? The one that I felt for my nieces. Thoughts led to guilty feelings in abundance. Dissatisfaction of not being able to give my 100% and absence of the heavenly feeling of being a mom. It's not like I did not enjoy any part of it. It's enough to just look at the cutiepies with innocent smiles and heartfelt laughter to forget everything. But it lasts only till they again become cranky! I was just caught unprepared and not ready for the 2 hectic years.
Time is a great teacher and healer. It brought in special moments and experiences, to connect us at a level greater than the physical one.
Like the day she had to get her ears pierced, I was so restless and irritable that amma scolded me for being paranoid. Could not imagine she having to go through pain whereas I was totally bold when the same had happened to my nieces. The weakness that being a mom can bring!
Any bad stories on newspaper started bringing a chill down my spine. I feared so much for her safety that I wondered if this horrible world was good enough for her. Now it's possible to relate to my ever anxious mum and friend's mums.
That beautiful moment when she called me "Amma" and the sound was heard not just by my ears. My heart skipped it's beat for the first time in life.
The days I would cry all the way to office, when she would bid me a goodbye with a silent, defeated smile on her face, knowing that nothing could stop me anyway. No one could see the sadness, longing, early maturity through that expression of hers except for me. Reading out kids expression comes most naturally for mammas.
The rigorous search for her playschool and none seemed satisfactory, since mums want best for the kids. To mums nothing seems as best as the kid is, and deserves.
Innocently they cling to us thinking we could only be the best for them, just makes us try our best. They teach us our lessons in their own sweet ways. Not to forget the hardest lesson about patience! Even those still make you laugh some point of time later.
She is of the age now, where my memory begins, I am ever so keen to be a part of everything she does. Dress her up, tell her stories, drop her to school and pick her up, be the first one to hear stories from school, take her to park, spend more time, be her friend, relive my childhood, enact my mom :). The list of it just continues and our bond is growing stronger day by day. I can't be the mom for whom child is first and everything else second, but I love motherhood and it is special to me in my own ways. Frustrations still exist in abundance but I have learnt to accept them since they are a part of any relationship.
The day she was born, her mum was born too.
She is growing up and her mum is growing up too. :)
https://pixabay.com/en/child-love-mother-the-birth-of-337540/
Like the day she had to get her ears pierced, I was so restless and irritable that amma scolded me for being paranoid. Could not imagine she having to go through pain whereas I was totally bold when the same had happened to my nieces. The weakness that being a mom can bring!
Any bad stories on newspaper started bringing a chill down my spine. I feared so much for her safety that I wondered if this horrible world was good enough for her. Now it's possible to relate to my ever anxious mum and friend's mums.
That beautiful moment when she called me "Amma" and the sound was heard not just by my ears. My heart skipped it's beat for the first time in life.
The days I would cry all the way to office, when she would bid me a goodbye with a silent, defeated smile on her face, knowing that nothing could stop me anyway. No one could see the sadness, longing, early maturity through that expression of hers except for me. Reading out kids expression comes most naturally for mammas.
The rigorous search for her playschool and none seemed satisfactory, since mums want best for the kids. To mums nothing seems as best as the kid is, and deserves.
Innocently they cling to us thinking we could only be the best for them, just makes us try our best. They teach us our lessons in their own sweet ways. Not to forget the hardest lesson about patience! Even those still make you laugh some point of time later.
She is of the age now, where my memory begins, I am ever so keen to be a part of everything she does. Dress her up, tell her stories, drop her to school and pick her up, be the first one to hear stories from school, take her to park, spend more time, be her friend, relive my childhood, enact my mom :). The list of it just continues and our bond is growing stronger day by day. I can't be the mom for whom child is first and everything else second, but I love motherhood and it is special to me in my own ways. Frustrations still exist in abundance but I have learnt to accept them since they are a part of any relationship.
The day she was born, her mum was born too.
She is growing up and her mum is growing up too. :)
https://pixabay.com/en/child-love-mother-the-birth-of-337540/
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