If there is a phase when a parent can admire, adore and cherish every move and every word of their child, it is certainly childhood. Wherever possible, whenever feasible, have your children in your priority than any other promise you have to keep. Remember, we have miles to go before we sleep but our children’s childhood shall come only once.
Krysta Davis carried her baby girl from 18-40 weeks solely for donating her organs, knowing she wouldn’t survive after birth
What image does breastfeeding bring to your mind? If someone would have asked me this question before I became a mother, it must have brought that ‘shh…shh…’ feeling in me. Isn’t it how many of us react to breastfeeding? Like menstruation and sex, breastfeeding is certainly another secrecy to hide, is it not? My pregnancy…
Quietude? Ha! It was not even the last thing I could dream of, as a new mom. Baby crying was, yes, one constant sound of the day and the night. However, it wasn’t all. By quietude, I not only mean the stillness from noises but also the silence of mind and being. With multiple responsibilities of managing home,…
On bended knee, I awaited thee. I watched months flee; one, two three, Before the Lord could hear my plea. One day, through destiny’s interplay, I read somewhere, 4 almonds a day, Shall unlock a womb’s doorway. “What’s in an almond, to carry?” Ask me, my boy, if you want to see…
Six months past the baby’s arrival, the ambition of waking up at five in the morning to practice Pranayama and yoga did spring up, as it did with the first. However, needless to mention, I could get nowhere near my ambition amidst the haystack of piled up chores. Yes, yes, yes, I have written all about it all through my blog, I know! So, let me quickly tell you the silly ‘work-outs’ I get to do with two kids around.
Before my babies were about to land on Earth, I made sure to create unique nurseries for them; yes of course, to welcome them in a cozy, colourful ambiance though I know they are not going to remember it 🙄 I am sharing here, one of the colourful decors I had made before my baby girl was born. I love butterflies and I know many does. A bunch of colourful butterflies hanging on a string from your wall does give a serene sight, perhaps even to babies. And the fact that it takes just a few minutes to get this done in a few easy steps adds more serenity to it.
Now having completed the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2017, I am glad I wrote all the posts from my heart. Until I sat to write, I wouldn’t have had anything framed in my mind about what to write. In spite of holding my sleeping baby on the shoulders and in addition, sometimes, my son sleeping on my lap, I managed to bring in my emotions in words while typing with my left hand. It isn’t a feeling of having achieved something; rather it has been a hearty experience of having run through my motherhood days with the little ones close to me. I don’t think I could have done this better any other year, for my new born has revived it all from the scratch, making it more intense. It has been a truly, from-the-depth-of-my-heart memorable experience.
Sometimes, we expect but it doesn’t happen. Sometimes, we least expect but it happens. The second kind is more interesting. We breath, eat and sleep as though we are aware of what happens inside our bodies. But, we are not even close to being aware of what happens within. This is the first enlightenment that the news of pregnancy brought with it. Developmental biology used to be my most favourite subject during my master’s days. I’ve studied every detail of zygote, embryo, blastula and gastrula; yet when it was happening in reality inside my body, I had no clue of it. It – the miracle of nature – seemed mysterious to me for the nth time. It could have happened with any set of genes of the hundreds of the sperm cells. To put it in a funny way, one man is just half zygote away from becoming another.
There could be hundred nice things about me as a mother but those few seconds of yelling at my son can bring the hundred things down – not necessarily to anyone else, but to myself. I know I cannot justify my action, passing the blame on circumstances. I know it can never be a good feeling after the yelling session concludes. I know, first of all, that yelling at him isn’t going to help him in getting better at anything. I know it isn’t a decent way of parenting. I know, in time, my son might begin to hate me for my behaviour. I know he’s learning to yell, as well, watching me. I know, after all at the end of the day that what would remain with me is only guilt. I know it all, half from self-realization and half from the father’s constant requests, demands and gyans. Indeed, I have largely turned off yelling at my son in the recent days. To get rid of yelling, is not only relieving; it is also a great peace booster for the family. At the end of the day, when I watch his serene sleeping face, I rest now with a feeling of triumph.