1000 Days of Being a MUM



         My two day old son with his dad

It’s said ,count your blessings, mine began almost 1000 days back. 1000 days of motherhood, totally counted on fingers. From the day i got to know there is a tiny little being in me , till the day my son turned two. All penned, noted,relived in my mind,my thousand days of undeterred bliss.

A very smooth sailing life turned into a big question,rather confusion,or can even be termed as dilema. Why am i not feeling fine, why am i feeling so good, is everything ok. Why were the heartbeats only 140 per minute, oh my god why were they 170 per minute. My tummy looks like a football, am i carrying a baby boy, or wait rather i look like a football, is it a little girl. My glow it’s gone, my hair so dull,my weight will i ever lose it,these stretch marks. The baby is moving bit too much, is he ok,the baby is not moving much,is he ok.

Your life becomes conundrum , and when you think this inner voice is not enough to drive you crazy comes a hurricane of unwelcomed suggestions, Don’t have tea, baby will have dark skin, don’t touch those noodles , you want baby’s hair to be so. It’s all about your baby now, remember ‘your baby’ about whom you are already paranoid, that will it ever be mine as much as it is now.

And suddenly the countdown ends,anxiety level at its peak,any moment the one you’ve literally been nurturing with your flesh and blood is going to be in your arms, the world seems insignificant now, all the questions which were cyclopean have dwarfed themselves.The pain,uneasiness,convulsions all vanish . The world seems whimsical with this bundle of joy,and as a universal law of nature all mothers take a vow to provide everything in their power and beyond to her piece of heart who has now entered the world to be on his own.

And then all the fallacious claims of i am a mother , a superhuman, all cogent go down the drain, atleast mine did, once the effect of anesthesia wore off and i felt an unendurable pain . For the world you are now a mother, an epitome of strength and beauty. BEAUTY that’s a different ball game altogether,at least for few months, but coming back to Strength, mine lasted only till painkillers persevered in my system. And then again followed the profound expertise of every mortal around from feeders to diapers to bathing techniques,of course accompanied by meconium and its counterparts,with or without pee.

Don’t get confused here,and not even for a second assume I don’t love my child, I am a totally obsessed , madly in love mother who has had a panic attack umpteen number of times even at a little sneeze or changing colours of poop. But in my weak moments, specially those when i seized to exist as an individual apart from a mother for everyone, i felt like giving up and running away. I am definitely not being suggestive, but I am a human too, like all mothers who don’t turn god post delivery.


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