Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day!

To past, present and future mamas. To people who miss their mamas. To people who have a strained relationship with their mamas. To the fortunate ones who get to spend the day with their mamas. To the women who decided not to become mamas. To the men who are both papas and mamas. To everyone, really, a happy mother's day.

This time a year ago I was 7 months pregnant and I felt very much like a mother. In fact, from the moment the pregnancy test came up positive I'd felt like a mother. I worried so much, all the time, about everything. For the subsequent 36 weeks, I worried. I counted kicks for a while, tested for toxoplasmosis multiple times, meditated, attended prenatal yoga, talked and sang to S. Yet I didn't want to call it my "first Mother's day", even though I already loved and cared for my son with every fiber of my being. I was too afraid of jinxing it. When you're pregnant, people tend to ~kindly~ remind you of everything that could go wrong at every turn, and I didn't want to feed into their or my anxiety. 

A couple of months later, S was born - a full-term, healthy baby boy. I couldn't be happier, and more grateful. And yet.

My mom loves recalling how, on the day I was born, I instantly stopped crying the moment they placed me on her chest. As S cried loudly after being pulled out (he was born via c-section), I waited anxiously to have him on me. I was certain he'd stop crying then, which he did. For a few seconds. Before promptly proceeding to cry as loudly as ever. 

I started questioning my motherhood there and then; it had been so much easier when he was still inside of me. I had known him so intimately. With every kick, every hiccup, every song I'd sung to him we'd been brought closer together, mother and son forming an eternal bond from the womb. It just wasn't the same now that he was out. I didn't know this screaming baby, and I didn't know myself as a mother, or frankly as a person anymore, either. The unconditional love was still there, but now tainted with exhaustion, frustration, unending anxiety and so much stress. I'll tell it to anyone who'll listen, as I wish someone would've warned me: the first month postpartum was the hardest of my life. That said, it set up the path for the most rewarding of times, too.

No switch turned on at the moment he was born. It didn't feel to me like "you're a mother now", and nothing fell into place. Instead, things fell apart. I felt much less of a mother than I had while pregnant, and admittedly much less in control of my son and of my own emotions. It was up to me to pick up the pieces of my expectations and ideas I had of myself, and rebuild it all from scratch. I had so much to learn. I still have so much to learn.

The role of mother took time and practice to grow into. It also took a hefty dose of support. I wouldn't be the okay and somewhat confident mother I've become by today, 10 months later, without the unyielding support from my husband, my mom, my godmother, my dad, my family-in-law, my friends. It sure takes a village (and thank god for Skype and Whatsapp for bringing that village closer to me).

Mother's Day is a day of love, of memory, of loss, of happiness. It's a day to call your mom; it's also a day to pat yourself on the shoulder if you've become one (from birth or from practice). It isn't easy, as no one said it would be, but damn it's a wonderful thing. 

So Happy Mother's Day whoever you are, wherever you are. Go call your mom, go get yourself a treat if you're a mom, go reflect on who you are because of your mother or simply be grateful for having known a mother's love. Through hardship and gratitude, mothers stand tall at the root of everything that's ever been and will ever be. After all, none of us would be here otherwise.