Confession

They say the birth of a child is rebirth of a woman. She comes through from that treacherous journey and is reinvented. Nothing is ever the same again...Who would know it better than me? And like me all the women who took up the journey and are now proud mothers. On the eve of Mother's Day, I decided to give a small tribute to all the women out there who would understand what I am talking about. To the young mothers like me, fighting hard to adjust...to the seasoned ones, sailing effortlessly through life...I salute you all.
I lost my own splendid mother two and a half years ago and never did I miss her the way I did when I was about to become a mother. i did not have her loving hand on me or her reassuring face or that steady voice telling me that everything would be okay! And yet I could see her face as clearly as daylight and imagine her smiling down at me, telling me that very soon...very soon I would know what it is like and how amazingly the pain is all worth it. But the journey seemed to go on without many joys and I would be honest with you all...the first six months were enough to dampen all my spirits and well...make a wreck out of me. I was sad and depressed most of the times. call it mental fatigue or physical exhaustion; words don't matter. The fact remains that every time I looked at my bundle of joy I only wished my mother was there, right next to me, taking care of him for me while I got on with my life.
I ached to go out and party with my friends, spend candle light dinners with my husband and play with my child. But none of those things was I able to do. What with my husband mostly away from me for work, I was all alone, fending for myself and my baby. And hate me for saying it, I hated it. My thoughts kept getting darker, my waist line broader and my mood sulkier than ever. I was ready to burst at the smallest invitation, hated if people around me were having some fun or simply moving on in life. Idleness and boredom filled my days as a dull routine set in my life. Getting up in the morning, with a heavy head and sleepy eyes, changing my baby's diapers, feeding him and putting him back to sleep. Then the bathing and feeding and playing on and on just kept going and for all those who think playing witha child is fun...it is also tiring. I was tired beyond belief and had nothing to write or wish for.
My son is six months old and I can't thank god enough for him. And yet I was upset. Because this wasn't me and I was not ready to accept the change. I needed guidance and support which was just not there and then I dreamt about my mother, waltzing through life, handling work and home and three kids, keeping herself up and ready for all the challenges life could throw at her and did she succeed? Oh yes she did. Then why was I such a failure? I always thought that I was the best of the lot, the only child she was so confident about. She trusted me to face every challenge and even if I lost...she would know that I tried. And today I decided to give myself another try. Hence the blog. Enough with the negativity in my life. I really am the only person who can help myself. And I would try.

On this mother's day, its a thought...from one mother to another...if anybody can do it...it's you. Happy Mother's Day.