Mother - A Phenomena

There's no emotion quite like that of holding your baby for the first time. Of seeing, hearing and feeling what you carried within you for nine months - a little being, small, vulnerable, wordless. That's when it occurs to her that life has changed irrevocably. That she is now responsible for life besides her own. Just whe the anxiety threatens to overwhelm her, her baby cries out. As she quickly turns to her baby; to take in her arms, the apprehension turns into acceptance. And finally, the woman turns into a MOTHER.


She feels her baby is a great person to talk to . About anything under the sun, for hours and hours on end. There she is, calling her baby by their name, telling her baby about mummy and daddy, and what a pretty baby he/she is. Pointing at things and explaining to her baby what they are. Asking her baby what they'll become when they grow up, or who her Price Charming / Princess would be. There is her baby, listening to solemnly to every word. Then, very seriously, her baby explains her view of life, the universe and everything: 'Goo-goo, ga-ga."

She knows that expression very well. She should. It's the baby's. And now it's hers too. Her little one has got it down pat - the eyes, the smile, everything. She realizes that she is teaching her little one more than she thinks. Her little one is watching her every move, learning how to behave in the world. It's funny at first. Then she begins to worry about what she is teaching her baby. That her baby is learning things he/she is not supposed to. Because the last thing she wants is that her baby turns out like herself.

It's natural for her to call out her baby by her name. And it's even more natural for her baby to not understand. One day, she'll call out to her baby. And her baby would turn his/her pretty little head to look at her. As if to say, "Yes, Momma; I'm here." She realizes that her baby has been slowly understanding that one familiar combination of sound refers to him/her. That her baby's just begun to discover his/her own identity. What she has now is no longer a little bundle of likes, dislikes, moods and quirks. It's a little person.

One day, her baby decides to make some travel plans. Accordingly, her little one disappears every time her back is turned. Crawling off to his/her next destination, criss-crossing the house, covering as much as twenty kilometers a day. Much to her concern. Her baby does not see the dangers she does. What if he/she bumps her head on the cupboard? Or crawls right off the bed? Or (heaven forbid!) crawls towards the stairs? That's when she finds herself taking on the next great motherhood role - the BODYGUARD.

After weeks of cruising along holding onto furniture, alternately standing up and falling down, the great day arrives. Her little one climbs to his/her feet. And bravely, with a look of intense concentration on his/her face, he/she takes his/her first tottering steps into the world. Walking comfotably - if a trifle unsteadily - into her waiting arms. He/She has just achieved independent mobility, and their face glows. But for her the moment is bittersweet. Because it's the end of babyhood, and the begining of childhood.

She is a MOTHER. A word that means the world to ME.