InMotherhood

I’ve Got The Whole World In My Hands

I have been silent. I have unfinished pieces, with half assed titles, on open tabs saved on my google drive. None of which have any potential, but each falsely claim they do. So why the dormancy? Because, World, I’m a Mom. Did you hear me? Hey! World! I’m a Mom! (Can you hear the passion in my voice as I say that?)

I really did believe in my heart of hearts that I was going to be less enthusiastic, more narcissistic, about Motherhood, but sometimes we all surprise ourselves, – don’t we?  And that’s unusual as I’m not usually wrong about the person I am. I mean, if anyone is in tune with themselves and feelings, it is I my friend. As soon as I saw his cherubic face I was transformed and love metastasized. The invisible knapsack of mommy tools that all moms are given, well, I didn’t just embrace it, they encompass my entire being now. Nurturer, Doctor, Friend, Teacher, Protector, perhaps Superhero, etc. I find myself playing these roles effortlessly, as if I have done it all my life. It is my love for him and those protuberant eyes that guide me.

I’ll write here and there, steal time from mundane tasks (housework is the pits, with its physical demands)and I write even if it’s an inconsequential thought on my notepad, but it’s not with the concentration that my writing requires, as my ruminant moods are rare. Almost hundred percent of the time, I’m in a perpetual state of exhaustion. How do I rejuvenate? My son’s laughter, his smile, how he reaches out for my face and caresses it and kisses it with a big warm blob of drool. Yes, he demonstrates affection and he’s just a baby. The endearing looks he gives his Father and I. How he always feels safe with me and I must admit, that I am amazed at his clarity at knowing who I am and what role I play in his life. See, my life has changed, I have changed. I feel like once I stepped foot into this trajectory, it has been a personal rebirth. He’s the air I breathe. And no. I’m not saying this to just say it because I am expected to as a mom. Or to romanticize my emotions. For those of you who know anything about me, you know that I can be shamelessly controversial. However, I am writing this here to all of you because the truth is, that my son is everything to me. He’s my Love. The air I breathe. My priority. My World.

When I look at my son, I see me in the color of his light brown hair and in his ‘achinaito’ expressive eyes. Though I must say that his eyes are all his own, resonating a very innocent sense of honesty and kindness that will break your heart. (He’s an old soul) I see my husband in my son’s rosy lips. My son gets lost in these trance-like moments and I am reminded of myself. It’s an absent-minded look I am all too familiar with.  I could stare at the thin air and lose myself in thought while the world is going on around me. Maybe he’ll be a reflective person. But though he has both of us, he really is his own person. With a calm and jovial disposition.  Neither of which describe me.

Although my road as a Mother is still very untrodden, (I’m an amateur!), and far from a diminutive role, I can tell you this without apprehension: I have found a new purpose in Life; this Life which I haven’t always appreciated, I do now tenfold.  Though I am aware I’m still too young to think of all this, but I think a lot about my mortality because of my MS, and realize, I want to be here for him for as long as I can and I am determined to do so. He is my Dream. My Sunshine. The Moon and Stars, and as his Father said, our “Hope.”

Motherhood is empowering. It gives you new perspective. Slows you down in a life. Allows you to stop and smell the coffee. To take it in. Though that sounds like a contradiction as my days with him actually fly and I don’t have the time to stop and smell the coffee actually. (I have to pencil in my shower!) But it’s those smaller things now in life that I am obliged to. The thrill at him seeing his Father arrive home from work, the way he keeps an eye on me when he’s playing independently. The way he can be hypnotized by my singing or when his Father reads to him. It’s rewarding, a blessing, watching him grow and discover the world around him. He’s Happiness itself. I have a stronger connection to this World because of him.

However, everything has not been perfect. I have stumbled a lot. Still learning. Everyday I learn and it does not escape me that I will continue to learn while on this journey. He is my Teacher in many ways. He has taught me Patience most of all and to smile, smile a lot.

I struggle between anachronistic attitudes, the nonsensical myths, the cultural folklore, modern medicine and my Intuition. I hear one person tell me something, then hear another say the contrary, “Because in my times we did it this way.” Then the Pediatrician is adamant about his philosophy and swears by it too!- and then finally my “motherly intuition.” Though most of the time I listen to the Pediatrician, other times, I listen to my family’s advice, 8 times out of 10, I go with my gut feeling. Why? Because the Pediatrician may know more than me when it comes to medicine. The women (the moms) in my family are veterans and know more about raising a child than I do, but I spend 24 hours a day with him, so it is I who knows my Son. Not the doctor, nor the family. I know one cry from another. I know that he can scream out of mere thrill. I know his first sign of sleep, or when he’s tired of a game. I know when he gets on the changing table and frantically moves his arms and legs, he’s genuinely happy and it’s actually when you’ll see the best in him. I know his scent as it is etched in my heart. I know how he likes to wake up, quietly, just like his Mom and Father, but unlike me, he’s much more on the chipper side. I know he likes to feel my warmth right before he falls asleep. I know when he wants to be held and especially I know when he wants to be held by me. I know that when it’s bath time those are his zen moments as he retreats to his own little world. He loves the water and has never feared it, just like his Mom. He can stare at something and study it for a while. He must get that curiosity from his Father. I know that when he buries his face into my neck, he feels safe. So no one, not even close family members can tell me anything about him that I don’t already know.

Time flies!- I say that in retrospect. With that being said, I don’t know where time went. Perhaps in the nursing, diaper changes, naps, burps, and watching him grow and reach his monthly milestones. (He’ll be 7 months in two days.)  He has one habit, i.e. finding solace in his hands, as he places them against his face, hiding from the world, loses it, and starts a new one, i.e. putting his hands in his mouth and sucking his thumb: and thus, the inception of the oral stage. He doesn’t give me the time to say good-bye to his old habits (which I find adorable) as he quickly discards them and starts a new one. The little things I am already beginning to miss.

I lose myself in him. I am completely engrossed in everything about him. As the book says, I’d know him anywhere. Indisputably, I was his mommy in a past life.

What have I learned in these past several months? Well, one thing is certain. A mother’s heart hurts and worries over just about everything. (I cried when they gave him his first, second, and third vaccine shot. I’m sure I’ll cry for the fourth) I understand and accept that my worrying about him is going to be interminable. I have also learned, and much to my dismay, that other moms are insanely judgmental over each other. Most moms think that their way of raising a child, is the only right way. It’s crazy what I hear. You’d think that all of us, the rookies and the old timers would stick together. After all, this shit is hard, right? But no, everything is about passing judgement. “Can you believe she did/said this….” It’s not surprising to me, as I have always been surrounded by very subjective people, but it is sad and on the upsetting side. I am not prideful to ask any Mom, new or old, any question about child rearing. Where would the pride get me if I don’t listen to what others may have to say? Perhaps I may learn something. And even if they tell me something that I am completely opposed to or find absolutely outrageous, I don’t judge them. I simply mind my own business. -And that’s the problem with many moms nowadays. They don’t know how to mind their own business. Most of us, not all of us, that I understand, but most moms are really trying to do our best, the best we can given our own personal circumstances. I feel compelled to remind the veterans that times have changed, medicine has evolved, there is new research that justifies new methods, and for the new mommies, remember that cultural, religious, and personal beliefs play a big role in raising a child. So back off a little when you hear something or see something that contradicts your POV. As a result, what have I learned in response to this war between mommies? Whenever asked what I do, how I do it, or any kind of advice, I keep it vague. Really vague. And it’s worked.

My writing may be more infrequent now until I find a routine for us. Implementing a structured routine has its challenges. After months of doing things one way with him, where he called the shots, now I am teaching him, slowly of course, that the driver here, is me. I am not trying to sound like a tyrant. But it’s time to organize our lives with some less spontaneity and more predictability. With space for fluctuation of course and always, always listening to him first. Then I’ll take it from there, as I have never and will never ignore him, especially not if he cries. I believe when a baby cries he/she is trying to tell you something. After all, it is their form of communication. So listen up! Listen with an open heart.

In the meantime follow me on Twitter @SoulconAlas and my hashtag #OnBeingAMommy

I leave you with a song I sing to him. Until next time.

“I’ve got the whole World in my hands,

I’ve got the whole World, in my hands,

I’ve got the whole World, in my hands,

I’ve got MY whole World in my hands.

I’ve got my Sunshine, in my hands,

I’ve got my Sunshine, in my hands,

I’ve got my Sunshine, in my hands,

I’ve got my Sunshine in my hands.”

 

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3 Comments

  • Auntie

    Love this, loved it, all. Little Ish is so lucky to have you as a mom and I am one that speaks from experience, of having you as a mom 🙂 You’ve done a great job so far, playing the superhero role quite nicely and expertly — I’ll pray for time to slow down too… Love you and him to the moon and back!

    July 14, 2014 at 1:01 pm Reply
  • Belkys

    Belkys

    August 7, 2014 at 2:45 pm Reply
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