To be or not to be concerned

Some days after I started on the journey to motherhood, I declared to all Moms in my circle that mothers, all mothers, have amnesia; they phase out all the pains and pangs they'd endured to become a mommy. All they remember is the feeling of absolute bliss when they first held their precious little one and later it becomes a poop-time tale telling match between Moms. Have you ever noticed how moms always gather together and exchange stories of their kids latest antics? No one thinks to include non-moms into the group, no one thinks it noble to warn other females of what they went through in their nine months of gestation. Then again, they say all pregnancies are different, each has its own trials and perhaps moms, when they gather together, share these knowing that they'd get the sympathy they seek. Before I forget or choose to wipe out what I went through to become a mom, I think it would be better if I record it.

Pregnancy, I thought earlier, was only nausea and throwing up (filmi style), cravings for certain foods, weight gain, a bump and a whole world of pain at the time of birth to bring the baby into this world. Any stories I'd heard from friends, cousin, sister or even my MiL were the same, all told of nausea, a complete loss of apetite in the first trimester and then food cravings later down the pregnancy. Any mention of labor pains (and only two women came forward with that) was sketchy, just that yes, it hurt like hell, but the moment they held their child in hands, all was forgotten. U went to the extent of saying that after all that pain and suffering, she saw her daughter and felt that was the sole purpose of her life, to give birth to the wonderful being that she'd nurtured within her for nine months. It was such a rosy, hunky dory picture. That and the fact that there are so many kids around us, our siblings etc. How difficult can it all be when out mothers and theirs before them had kids...women have been having kids and going through all this since Hazrat Adam and Hawwa (AS).

There is a world of information out there on the internet on pregnancy and related issues, chunkloads of money are made on books about pregnancy, child care and the likes. All this and you're still oblivious of this facet of life, completely unaware that such literature exists, or perhaps you'd always ignored it altogether. I did not know what I did, all I know is that I sought information when I entered the ring...and information came pouring in from all sides as well. I was, all of a sudden included 'in' the sanctum of mommies...then my eyes opened up to what I had in store for me. The best part is, no one would vouch forward with what lay ahead, but the moment you mentioned a trying time, stories would pour forth. It's amazing how closely guarded such incidents are, only when you are in the midst of it all and experiencing it would you learn more or similar tales of woe.

I'd gone to the doctor for a routine visit, when the nurse congratulated me before I stepped in the doctor's room and when the doctor confirmed it, I went numb. That's what I felt, complete numbness...and perhaps helplessness. I know other women who'd been ecstatic at their 'news' irrespective of how many times they'd gone through it earlier already. I came home and cried and for better part of the coming week, I was weepy and crying. Don't get me wrong, it's not as if I did not want it, the news was just overwhelming and I felt helpless, forlorn, trapped, I did not know who to turn to. I mean how can you douse the spirits of a jubilant dad-to-be? A major reason behind this, I guess was the fact that I was here on my own. Back home this news would have travelled as fast as telephone lines could relay it, everyone would've been happy. Here, every thing was muted, subdued. I've lived a life cocooned in love and care, being cherished every breathing moment just for being me. My comings and goings, in my immediate and extended family, were news of joy...all that unconditional love and attention is spoiling. I know it spoiled me for anything any less than that...imagine having a bucket full of cold reality and loneliness thrown in your face when you learn of the most momentous thing in your life…that those who love you most are not there with you. So I cried. I cried at having cried. I cried fearing that I would not make a good mother, I cried fearing I would not be able to love the child as much as it deserved, that I was such an undeserving mother, such a thankless candidate for the honor. And most of all I cried knowing that it would not get the kind of attention and love that I was lucky to get from my family. It's all so unfair for the life within me, it hadn't even got a heartbeat at the time it's mother was crying.

It's been six months since and the heart beats have become movements, kicks, jabs and squirms within me and each day I love it more...and fear more and cry more for it...it's scary, to love a child you haven't even seen or held in your hands and cry for it. I don't think I've cried as much in my entire life as I've cried in these past months. And honestly, I don't care much for the physical pains and sufferings I've been through so far, the nausea, wooziness, persistent aches...not even the thought of labor scares me, I'm ready to take on anything for the baby. Emotionally it's been hell. There are days when I feel I'm on top of the world, when I feel utterly blessed and then there are days when I'm totally down in the dumps, deep in despair. If someone were to ask me what I felt like, I'd say I feel like an apple that's been put through a juicer...all that remains of me is the dry, brittle pulp, every bit of joy drained out.

All reading that I've done so far encourages moms to talk to their bumps, I feel silly so I don't do that. I fear the baby would be more familiar with my sniffles than my voice...as it is it hears more from the TV than from its parents! Also I noticed, since movement became noticeable, that it seems to be more active when I'm upset. I've lain awake at nights, wallowing in self-pity, stressing myself out and the baby kicks its support inside me...it gets restless when I cry. Its at peace when I am. And this worries me too. What kind of a mother would I make if I keep the baby through such an emotional turmoil? What influence would get from my dark moods. I try to stay positive and upbeat, just for the baby...but I fail. It doesn't help that the baby's decided to not get into a proper position and give me more cause for concern. And all that stressing and worrying on my part may affect it as the chemicals released in the brain to my emotional upheavals reach the baby. There's little that can be done to prevent this. I can perhaps stress myself out to be happy and stay positive, force optimism...or binge on chocolate.