Updated: Jul 8
Recently my son turned one and I couldn't help but reminisce about the crazy roller coaster ride this one year has been.
Ever since my son was born I made it a point to live in the present and enjoy the moment. But motherhood is strange. One minute I am holding him, close to my bosom, caressing his soft cheeks, kissing them and lulling him to sleep.
But the next moment I feel terrified of missing the softness against my skin, terrified of time slipping away from my hands. Every time I hold him, I realize one day he is going to have his own life and will not prefer holding my hands anymore. And at that particular moment, I feel like freezing time forever.
His birthday is also the day when I celebrate my motherhood anniversary. When I think about the events of this one year, I can definitely say that it has been a whirlwind of emotions. Apart from feeling ecstatic about my baby's birth, sadness about him growing up too fast for my liking, there is a wafer thin line which is all about my anxiety.
I am anxious because if there has been one thing that has been constant in all the hullabaloo every since I gave birth, then it has to be my baby's huge smile on seeing me. Every. Single. Time.
That heartening smile has made me anxious many times. Yes! My baby has the cutest smile. But what I mean to say is that the smile always reminds me of the fact that there is a little human dependent on me and I am his mother. He looks up to me for everything. He needs me.
And that makes me question my own capabilities as a mother. Will I ever be able to be the mother that my son would be proud of? Will I ever be able to do enough for him?
Whenever my mind goes in the direction of doubting myself, I tell myself that "Motherhood is a priority as well as a challenge."
I realized that every night he sleeps on my lap while sucking onto my breast, he feels safe and warm with me. I know at that particular moment I am doing enough for him, at least for the moment.
The night before his birthday, I tucked him into his bed and waited for the clock to strike past midnight. I wanted to be the first one to wish him. As I kissed his forehead softly and wished him a Happy Birthday, quietly, I realized I am celebrating my birthday too. The day my son was born, I was as born as a mother. It is a privilege to experience motherhood.
As I held onto him that night, I understood that there is no such thing as a perfect mother. Let us hold onto the present, live in the moment, enjoy our children's growing up years and celebrate our true selves.
And I wished myself, Happy birthday, momma!