It is believed that becoming a mother is one of the greatest joys a woman can experience. From a young age it is ingrained in us that a woman is incomplete unless she's a mother. We grow up hearing stories of how from the moment you see your baby, you are transformed.
I became pregnant easily. My husband and I were only trying for a couple of months when I conceived. I considered myself lucky because we were both into our 30's and had been told it could take time. My pregnancy was not particularly uncomfortable; I continued working, kept up with my swimming, went for walks, drove around like I usually did. All in all, it seemed to me that I was well prepped for motherhood since everything was progressing so smoothly.
The water broke, labor pains started and 11 hours later I was handed my daughter. My entire conscious existence had prepared me to fall in love with my baby at first sight. I was ready to experience all those wonderful feelings I had read about, seen in countless movies and heard other mothers talking about (including my own!). So when I held this little being for the first time and looked down at her face, I felt...nothing. There was a sense of relief that she was healthy but there was none of the overwhelming flood of emotions I was expecting to feel. I explored her tiny features, felt a sense of awe that I had helped create her but I didn't feel the rush of unconditional love I was "supposed" to feel.
And I didn't feel that in the days to follow either. My daughter seemed to have picked up on my resentment at not feeling the emotions I was meant to- she gave troubling feeding, developed colic within a week and was generally a high maintenance baby. Everyday I would wake up thinking maybe today I would understand this whole miracle of being a mother and everyday I would be frustrated and plagued with a sense of my own inadequacies. My mom and husband doted on the baby from day one, their unadulterated emotion could be seen clearly so what then was the matter with me? Was I destined to be a failure as a mother? Why didn't my child inspire absolute love in me? Was I abnormal?
Days passed and each day was a struggle in my own mind. I wanted to do the best for my baby but everything I did was tainted with self-doubt. If I didn't feel the way I was supposed to, how could I be relied upon to do the best for her? What if I made a mistake? What if I inadvertently harmed her?
Three weeks went by and one day I was mindlessly doing the same tasks of bathing, feeding, changing her like any other day. I picked her up and took her into the balcony, settled her on my lap and casually glanced at her. She was looking intently at me. And then she smiled. It was more like a toothless grimace, but it lit up her entire face. And from nowhere this rush of overwhelming emotion gripped me. Tears sprang into my eyes and in that one moment the universe stood still. I looked at her and realized that I would do whatever it took to keep her safe. It had taken me three weeks but I had finally realized what it meant to be a mother; to be responsible for creating this tiny, perfect human being and to know what unconditional emotion felt like.
Motherhood doesn't come with a manual. There are no same set of rules for everyone. Just as each child is different so is every mother. And we all need to respect our different parenting styles because in motherhood there is no absolute right or wrong.
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