This blog is dedicated to my dear mother. My source of strength and inspiration.
Mumma and I just sat for our evening tea, each of us holding a cup and I very casually mentioned to her, “mumma am pregnant”. She looked up at me half startled and almost the same time I could see her lips widen out to a big smile, her eyes starting to moisten. Putting the cup down I held her hands and said, ” mumma I am scared “.
Very cautiously keeping her tone neutral, she just said, “this will change your life. Things will not be as before”. “ Yes, I know” is all that I could say. Having said so I really didn’t know what all the yes covered. She then held me close to her and said, “don’t worry, I am there with you”. I then described to her about my visit to the doctor for a routine check -up which rather ended up on a happy or should I say a surprising note when my doctor looked at the strip and said, “ see, two red lines. Its positive! You are pregnant. Congratulations”. Both my husband and myself looked at each other trying to digest every word said by the lady sitting across the table. And the rest of it followed which is quite history, monthly check ups, routine USG’s, sleepless nights, swollen feet, an expanding tummy, not to forget frequent visits to the washroom, eating for two (which even followed afterwards) and the blind date called ‘delivery’, though I had a C section I did endure the pain for a good 14 hours only to end up hearing, sorry your baby doesn’t wanna come out the conventional way.
My journey all this while as a mother has made me realize that wounds, scars, stretch-marks, all ills and pains heal over a period of time; but now I’ve become so vulnerable to tension, grief, happiness, distress, failure, anxiety, impatience. Every-day on my way to work I see children at a nearby construction playing near debris or areas they should not be wandering about. I am scared to even imagine my child being in such an environment. Every news I read about a school bus falling off in a river or a child being beaten black n blue in school, it pains me to even imagine my child going through such a situation, it shakes me up to even ask myself, “What if it had been my child”? The newspaper has so much about war, drought, accidents, diseases, murder, crime etc, and every time I think of my son, a small prayer comes to my lips, let not my son go through any of these.
From neatly trimmed and painted nails, to crisp ironed clothes, matching footwear, today being a mother I guess I am more reduced to the primitive bear protecting her cub, perhaps not so perturbed with what I did to take care of myself before I embarked on this journey of motherhood. Professionally I took a gap of 2 years only to realize how difficult it is to get back on track. It’s been really tough! Every ounce of discipline I maintain, kills me when I stop myself from running back home to hold my son when I hear that he’s remembering me. Everyday decisions have no longer become routine, sleeping over weekends and spontaneous vacation or an outing has now become a distant dream. That life which had become so important to me, seems to have little value when I look at my son. I hope for more years, more dreams to accomplish for him which I may not have dreamt for myself. I feel proud to have a 6 inch caesarean scar and not so many but some prominent stretch- marks to remind how conveniently he kicked and twisted inside of me while I carried him for 9 months. And yes I must confess, how I fell in love with Thompson again for reasons still unknown and quite unromantic. I’ve tasted such joy that it actually hurts even in happy times. And throughout this journey mumma you’ve been there supporting me in almost every stage, even when you were down in health, you put that aside never mentioned a word, even had sleepless nights when Keith woke up in the night crying. Made sure that I went back happy no matter how difficult it has been for you. I love you mumma for being my strength, standing by my side when I felt weak, walking the difficult path with me, giving me company in tough times and this is what makes my life worth living.
I am sure all mums feel the same way that I do though our experiences may be different. I guess we all wired in similar ways.