The Joy Of Losing Liberties

Hey, if you think my new status of motherhood is inspiring all posts on birth and babies, that’s not true. However, this one is surely the result of my current emotion. All mommies will agree that the feeling of caressing your baby, cocooned against you surpasses all known joys. Every ounce of my pain and discomfort seems worthwhile when his petite hands come around me. These days not just mothers, even to-be-fathers talk to their fetals, it is not surprising then that we chatter away endlessly with our new borns . God alone knows what goes on in their tiny minds and what they make of the adult gibbering. But I know what goes on in my mind; I want my five months oldie to respond to my every uttered syllable.

It is beautiful to see the little one gradually beginning to react with his smiles, laughter and rhythmic sounds. Of course this is only one side of the response, he also shrieks, shouts and howls. It is all part of the growing up game. This increased intelligence with advancing months also means that he now recognizes faces, surroundings and voices. And you know what comes next… he recognizes me, mommy. “I feel elated” will be an understatement. Though he is extremely comfortable and playful with other family members, he searches for my face and longs for my arms after a while. Trust me, the first time he out-stretched his arms to come to me, I had an air of pride all around me. Finally, I was the chosen one. Probably this is their way to make up to mommies for changing their nappies through the night.

Well, there’s a slight whammy in being the chosen one. As much as I may regale about his bonding with me, it also comes to mean that now my absence does not go unnoticed by him. In the consequence, my restaurant visits are rushed apart from being seldom. Before ordering for a dessert, I need to check up at home if he is still in his happy-go-lucky mode or the tantrum state has set in. While shopping, the first thing that appears decent to me, I pick up. Can’t take the risk of rummaging through the store and modelling in the trial room while he rises from his siesta looking for his mommy dearest. Did you say movies in theatre? Ah! that option has been deleted from my entertainment itinerary since the little angel descended in my lap. A Bollywood flick barely reaches its climax in three hours while in the same three hours my baby feels hungry atleast twice, pees four times and poops atleast once. Phew! No question of being sane and sober after this schedule.

All said and done, the privilege and joy of being The Mommy is much greater than the whammy of losing the liberties. No experience of dining, shopping or movie going comes even close to the experience of watching your baby laugh in response to you. Long Live the Mommies… both- my mommy and my baby’s mommy.