12 December 2012

motherhood and parental love

the moment i became a mother, was when i understood parental love. when my mom stayed up with me to rock my unconsolable twins, when she woke up at odd hours to feed me various nourishing concoctions, when she shared with me her experience with her first born; that was when i appreciated and truly felt her presence as a mother. she was my anchor in the sea of nursing, wailing, pain and exhaustion that i was buffeted by in the early weeks. she told me that her mother did the same for her children, and now she was doing the same for mine.. the circles of motherhood hence continue..

when my dad came and bolstered my courage, when he told me that i was given two blessings that i now had to do shukr for by bringing them up in the best way possible, i again felt blanketed in parental love. it is like a security blanket, one that will never let you fall. no matter what, no matter my tantrums, my idiosyncracies, my antisocial behaviour, i KNOW that my parents will always love me, they will always be on my side, that i will always find a refuge in their presence.

sure, i might have known all this before, but being a parent myself changes the perception. i know it more deeply now, i can feel it in my very essence, because i feel the same way about my babies. i imagine my love for the twins will only grow, and so the love my parents must feel for me is ten fold.

my pregnancy was not easy, and it took quite an emotional toll on me. giving birth had its own issues, and by the time i was ready to come home from the hospital i was in sore need of not just some TLC, but bucketfuls of unconditional love. i was panicky, mildly depressed and in constant tears. i was terrified of the responsibility of taking care of two tiny babies who never -so it seemed- stopped crying. in fact, i have to admit that the early days of mothering were not at all like the golden moments people describe, and i am very thankful to those who shared their own un-golden experiences.

i started reading momma zen by karen miller a month later, and that helped a lot too.

baraka described the process of becoming a mother wonderfully, capturing all the angst and joy it entails:
Every mother has two birthing tales:

One, that of giving birth to her child, is shared. The other, of giving birth to herself, of becoming a mother and all the ways that smashes into and fractures everything else she is, of being broken open and made anew, is one that takes a lifetime to understand.
this is the first of what i hope will be many posts on motherhood and parenting. i look forward to this lifetime journey with my twin boys :)

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