A Mother's Journey: Those Wise Eyes
I have neglected my "Mother's Journal" for a while now. Ironically, mainly because my little princess "Angel" has kept me very busy. What little time I had left I had decided to dedicate to my other passion in this life, the suffering of Copts in Egypt. No matter, it is time to resume my journal because each day that passes brings more and more that I want to write down...want to capture for fear I may one day forget.
The other day I was doing some grocery shopping. As I walked past a florist shop I caught the lovely smell of fresh flowers. Two years ago I would have been delighted to smell fresh flowers, in fact it was on my top 3 favorite smells list along with fresh baked bread and a good strong coffee aroma. Not anymore! Now smelling fresh flowers takes me back to that lovely room in the maternity ward where I had my Angel. To the beginning of my feelings of despair and inadequacy. To the great rush of love I felt for her that was mingled with a strange fear that something bad might happen if I should close my eyes and leave her alone in this world for a couple of hours, just to catch up on much needed sleep.
The day she was born is as fresh in my memory as ever. What I recall the most about it, is the late hours of that night. My Angel was but 5 hours old, swaddled in her soft wraps. Face so perfect she looked more like a 2 week old baby...no wrinkles or closed eyes. In fact her beautiful almond shaped eyes were wide open. Everyone had left and my poor husband fell into a deep sleep on the couch. It was just me and Angel. She had that look on her face...that look of someone who "knows"...as if she's been here before. It actually made me shiver. It made me want to protect her so much more for some reason.
My Angel baby...my sweet Angel baby. My gift from the Lord. She's no longer a baby of course. According to her she's a "big girl" and also "mummy's best friend" (no argument from mummy here sweetness). Back when she was a newborn, I was afraid she didn't love me back. I was afraid I'd fail her and she would just not love me. I sometimes wished I'd die...But then I go scared...scared that if I died, nobody would know how to love her as much as I do. Those days were horrible. That feeling of helplessness, of being put through the motions every day with not a soul aware of the pain inside of me. I couldn't even bring myself to be aware of that pain. Couldn't explain it.
I still remember those days because they help me appreciate the happy moments all the more now. The moments when she showers my face with kisses, or squeals with delight when I get back from work, or hides in my arms when she's tired...and all the little things like how touches my face and smiles, and how she insists on feeding me little pieces of her food. If I ask God for anything, it is to keep her from harm and help my husband and I raise her in Christ's love. I also pray that no mother should feel alone or lost...it does get better, so much better than you could imagine.
The other day I was doing some grocery shopping. As I walked past a florist shop I caught the lovely smell of fresh flowers. Two years ago I would have been delighted to smell fresh flowers, in fact it was on my top 3 favorite smells list along with fresh baked bread and a good strong coffee aroma. Not anymore! Now smelling fresh flowers takes me back to that lovely room in the maternity ward where I had my Angel. To the beginning of my feelings of despair and inadequacy. To the great rush of love I felt for her that was mingled with a strange fear that something bad might happen if I should close my eyes and leave her alone in this world for a couple of hours, just to catch up on much needed sleep.
The day she was born is as fresh in my memory as ever. What I recall the most about it, is the late hours of that night. My Angel was but 5 hours old, swaddled in her soft wraps. Face so perfect she looked more like a 2 week old baby...no wrinkles or closed eyes. In fact her beautiful almond shaped eyes were wide open. Everyone had left and my poor husband fell into a deep sleep on the couch. It was just me and Angel. She had that look on her face...that look of someone who "knows"...as if she's been here before. It actually made me shiver. It made me want to protect her so much more for some reason.
My Angel baby...my sweet Angel baby. My gift from the Lord. She's no longer a baby of course. According to her she's a "big girl" and also "mummy's best friend" (no argument from mummy here sweetness). Back when she was a newborn, I was afraid she didn't love me back. I was afraid I'd fail her and she would just not love me. I sometimes wished I'd die...But then I go scared...scared that if I died, nobody would know how to love her as much as I do. Those days were horrible. That feeling of helplessness, of being put through the motions every day with not a soul aware of the pain inside of me. I couldn't even bring myself to be aware of that pain. Couldn't explain it.
I still remember those days because they help me appreciate the happy moments all the more now. The moments when she showers my face with kisses, or squeals with delight when I get back from work, or hides in my arms when she's tired...and all the little things like how touches my face and smiles, and how she insists on feeding me little pieces of her food. If I ask God for anything, it is to keep her from harm and help my husband and I raise her in Christ's love. I also pray that no mother should feel alone or lost...it does get better, so much better than you could imagine.
posted by Bent El Neel at ١٢:٢١ ص
2 Comments:
I love this post. When my son was born, I didn't want to hold him, just to look at him & allow us to get used to each other. We are so close now - We think alike, have the same sense of humour and understand each other's tangential thinking.
When my daughter was born (15months after my son) We walked and talked for 5hrs after her birth. Her attitude from the start was 'I know where I'm going, get out of my way' I understand the wisdom in a small girls eyes. She is now a great girl of 9. Prepubescent, emotional (well she's a drama queen) and always a delight. I don't understand her in the same way that I do my son, she is not logical in any way shape or form. I have had to learn to manage her emotions - difficult but worth it. The connection we have is beyond the mental or physical, it is purely spiritual. I have struggled to teach her about humanity so she won't wrestle with it the way I did. Always a challenge, always worth it. Cherish your Angel! Cherish the end of school holidays! :-)
Bluebolt: Thanx for your comment. It actually made me teary because when you talk about your daughter, it sounds like you're describing my daughter...only 7 years on!! In a way I can't wait to see her grown up, but I also feel like I can't let go of the little baby I could protect by wrapping in my arms.
I agree with you: it's always worth it!!
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