A Mother And A Child

I was never close to my mom. It is not that there is a lack of love between us, or that there is more than the usual level of dysfunction in our family. My mom and I just have different personalities and tended to approach situations differently.

Typical of mothers, my mom nagged and ruled her brood, sometimes to distraction. She has her sweet moments though, and we learned to be appreciative of her good points. Still, I grew up - like many women, I believe - thinking that I wish to be a different (read: better) mother when my turn comes.

Because I married and got pregnant relatively late (in my thirties), I believed that I was fully ready for it. I have a very supportive husband, so I enjoyed my pregnancy and anticipated motherhood with joy. As I carried my baby to term, I rarely thought of my mother. My preoccupation then was with my husband (we were newlyweds) and my growing baby. However, the day that I became a mother myself, I saw my mom in an entirely new light.

Mine was a difficult labor – lasting seventeen hours – and near the end, I was reduced to tears and desperately pleaded for my mom’s comfort. Things had not gone as expected; I was tired, and I just wanted the pain to stop. I begged all the doctors, the nurses -- everyone attending to me -- to stop the pain and call my mother.

I felt lost, helpless, afraid. Like a child. And I cried for my mommy. There I was, at the brink of becoming a mother, returning to childhood once more. I was sedated, but I distinctly remember beseeching my mother to come and take the pain away. Over and over again, in chorus with the doctors’ commands for me to push, I heard myself crying out: "No more! Please, I’ve had enough. Mommy! Mommy!"

Even as I felt the welcome release that let me knew that I had finally delivered my baby, my thought was on my mother, and of how I wanted her to come and take care of me all over again. Like she did all her life. Maybe it was not always the kind of love I appreciated, but it was always of her whole self. It was the best of love that she could give.

My own transformation to motherhood made me realize how much my mother loved me, and I could only be grateful for her sacrifices, for everything she has given us. My mother made me who I am today. And I would be a good mother to my own child because of her.

Before I became a mother, I had to be a child. My mother’s grateful child.