The Motherhood Chronicles - VI

People say being a mother is a full time job – I beg to differ, it’s not just a full time job, it’s a full life job. Never has this been more evident to me than during the last stages of my pregnancy and now – after my delivery.

My mom has not been a person in the best of her health. Suffering from asthma, any work load greater than her normal day to day activities takes a severe toll on her. Of the few things she cherished in her life were her morning and evening walks, her afternoon nap and her freedom to do minimal cooking for dinner.

Then came along Nandu and the best laid plans went awry. Now 24 hours is too less for my mom. She get up at around 5 a.m., or lets put it another way, she doesn’t sleep at night – taking care of the baby – feeding her, rocking her to sleep, changing her…..she makes breakfast and lunch and is off to work by 7 am. She comes back and somehow there is always work to be done at home, which she does. The only luxury she has now is a 3-4 hour sleep (which is all she has in 24 hours) in the afternoon, which is also normally disturbed by the baby-related happenings in the house.

For someone who falls sick at a slight increase in activities, my mom seems to be in good health. But I know that it’s all appearances. She is reaching into the innermost recesses of her will power and gaining strength to carry, literally bringing up my kid in a way that inconveniences me the least and gives me time and strength to get on with my life.

For someone who kept saying that “people should take care of their own kids themselves and not let the grandparents do the caring”, her actions completely belie her beliefs. The amount of love, affection and care she has for the kid, I’m afraid even I won’t be able to compete.

Then there is the man behind the woman. My dad is like the silent unsung hero of a war. The amount of work my dad does behind the curtains is unbelievable. In fact it is only because of this unwavering wall of support that my mom can lean on, is she able to carry on. He cooks, runs all the errands for the house, takes care of the kid when mom & I are resting and then some, things that he was unable to do for me, he does for my kid.

When I see how I and my husband deal with each other and generally with life, I feel sorry for Nandu, for she will never experience the love and support that I have.

The Motherhood Chronicles - V

Now that the kid is almost 3 months old, she has grown onto us. Everything is about her, every decision is taken after checking its effect on her, every body's comfort is sacrificed for hers and everyones life is kept aside for hers. Inspite of all this, when she looks at you with those round eyes full of innocence and maybe even unadulterated love - not knowing who you are, how you look, not judging you - simply delighted that you exist and she is with you - all is forgotten. The sleepless nights, the petty inconveniences, the fact that you suddenly lost out your spot as the family's favourite child. All that remains embedded in your conscience is that look and the fact that you could do anything to keep that look as it is today.

When parents tell their children that you will realise what it is to be a parent only when you become one, believe me, no child is ever prepared for what is going to hit them - both the good and the bad. The fact that you lose all of your freedom, the fact that a small travel requires a trainload of the kid's stuff to be lugged around, the fact that you are perpetually covered in pee and vomit and the fact that this human life totally depends on you for its existence - the responsibility, the power of it all.... its overwhelming like no other experience.

But when I sit back and think, I really wonder, why we have kids? A couple of days back there was a blast in Mumbai - some 25 people lost their lives, a hundred or so were injured. Its not about Mumbai, it happens everywhere. Then there is the everyday occurance of rape, child molestation which you hope and pray and do everything in your power to ensure doesn't befall your loved ones. Somewhere down the line you yourself crush your childs dreams and turn her into a machine who is supposed to top in everything, earn the best living (even if she forgets to live a life while trying to earn one), toe the line that society has drawn and generally "do well" as per general norms. To top it as the kid grows, there are certain qualities - good and bad that they pick up. You can do the best you can to get all the good stuff in, but the bad always seeps in unnoticed. Before you know your kid is lying to you or not as empathatic as you hoped she will be or is as greedy as the relatives you used to bitch about in family gatherings. Then there comes the time when she accuses you of not being able to bridge the generation gap - she drinks, maybe smokes, has live-in relations with a guy (or a girl) and basically there is not much you can do about. You can just hope that you die with a clear conscience that you did your best and maybe that just was not enough.

Inspite of knowing all this I wonder why I had Nandu. I consider it to be an extremely selfish act on my part. In my quest to fit into society and to do as is expected of me, I have created a human life, which I have no skills or means of protecting from all that I know exists both out in the world and in one's self.