***
Dear GBM,
Have you heard this song?
You might remember listening to it when you were inside me. Remember that terrible day when I had a bad headache and nausea all at the same time? I couldn't keep any food down but I was also ravenous because I was pregnant. So I kept eating and throwing up and my head felt like it was going to explode. I didn't know what to do, so I just lay on the cold floor and watched Pandiaraj comedy videos on Youtube. Somehow, that seemed to help. Then, I decided to listen to some music and M played this song. It's all about Rajnikanth's devotion to his mother, see? He says even if he took nine janmas and attempted to repay his mommy for all the sacrifices she had to go through in those nine months, it wouldn't be sufficient. An admirable sentiment. Though I was more entertained by the thought that perhaps the mother was shaking her finger throughout the song to indicate that she wanted her teeth brushed and Rajnikanth completely missed the point and gave her a bath instead.
It's almost a month since you arrived. Time flies. But not fast enough. I think you should turn three months old at the earliest just so I don't get freaked out by your wobbly head (Dear God, Intelligent Design this is not). I'm seriously worried that my clumsy hands might drop you when you squirm and your adorable little head goes this way and that. Also, I'd like to sleep some more, please. To be fair, you aren't really a fussy baby. Your requirements are basic. A. Feed Me. B. Change Nappy. People would think this is quite simple. I used to think so too. But motherhood is like a game of Chinese Whispers. You start it and by the time you go a full circle, you are pretty much clueless about how things changed the way they did. Somewhere in between, you lose control and surrender to fate. And the end result has you shaking your head Prufrock-like- This is not what I meant at all, this is not it at all. I'd be feeling like a crap mother by now if not for the fact that I know all this is normal. Your mommy has the power of the internet and has read enough blog posts by new mothers to know that she's not alone.
Which makes me wonder what it was like for mothers of my mother's generation. Were they allowed to feel frustrated? Did they know it was normal to get mad and maybe want to resign from this post? Did they feel it was okay to miss their old life? And not feel like bad mothers?
One of my college-mates who read my birth story post wrote me an email thanking me for narrating the experience the way it happened. Not hiding the brutality of it. She said she was glad she read it because older mothers when asked about their labour experience dismiss it by saying they forgot all about it as soon as they saw the baby's face. What a TV moment. The mother with her perfect mascara beaming at her cherubic angel. A soulful melody playing in the background. A gentle tear sliding down the father's face. What a shock it'd be if they instead showed a half-crazy woman with bad hair looking down with fright at this tiny stranger who is howling at her breast in an antiseptic hospital room?
When that is the truth. It may not be poetic. But like war, it could be made to sound so. Instead, I wonder why we are constantly shown only mothers who've taken to the role like cheerful kamikaze pilots. Another curious observation I've made is that most of these Maa songs are sung by sons. Why aren't there as many Maa songs sung by daughters? Maybe because the daughters have an inkling that this shit ain't true. I think they know it in their bones that mothers are human and might prefer going to the toilet when nature calls over feeding a hungry baby.
Dear GBM, I cannot trim your nails. I cannot give you a bath. I'm not the best at putting you to sleep. All I can do is run to you at your first howl and feed you. And yes, my singing calms you down. The only other person who has the same effect on you is MS Subbulakshmi. Who would have thought. Sometimes, I think you deserve better and your behaviour which is actually golden in comparison to most other newborns should get far more appreciation than I'm able to dole out. But thankfully, I don't feel guilty. Like I said, I only need to go online to know I'm normal. If not for a space where women are finally speaking out and narrating their experiences without mincing words, I'd have let the likes of Vairamuthu and Vaali judge me. You see, motherhood would have been easy if I had indeed been God. But I'm only human. And that makes me greater.
With love,
Your panda-eyed mother.
It's almost a month since you arrived. Time flies. But not fast enough. I think you should turn three months old at the earliest just so I don't get freaked out by your wobbly head (Dear God, Intelligent Design this is not). I'm seriously worried that my clumsy hands might drop you when you squirm and your adorable little head goes this way and that. Also, I'd like to sleep some more, please. To be fair, you aren't really a fussy baby. Your requirements are basic. A. Feed Me. B. Change Nappy. People would think this is quite simple. I used to think so too. But motherhood is like a game of Chinese Whispers. You start it and by the time you go a full circle, you are pretty much clueless about how things changed the way they did. Somewhere in between, you lose control and surrender to fate. And the end result has you shaking your head Prufrock-like- This is not what I meant at all, this is not it at all. I'd be feeling like a crap mother by now if not for the fact that I know all this is normal. Your mommy has the power of the internet and has read enough blog posts by new mothers to know that she's not alone.
Which makes me wonder what it was like for mothers of my mother's generation. Were they allowed to feel frustrated? Did they know it was normal to get mad and maybe want to resign from this post? Did they feel it was okay to miss their old life? And not feel like bad mothers?
One of my college-mates who read my birth story post wrote me an email thanking me for narrating the experience the way it happened. Not hiding the brutality of it. She said she was glad she read it because older mothers when asked about their labour experience dismiss it by saying they forgot all about it as soon as they saw the baby's face. What a TV moment. The mother with her perfect mascara beaming at her cherubic angel. A soulful melody playing in the background. A gentle tear sliding down the father's face. What a shock it'd be if they instead showed a half-crazy woman with bad hair looking down with fright at this tiny stranger who is howling at her breast in an antiseptic hospital room?
When that is the truth. It may not be poetic. But like war, it could be made to sound so. Instead, I wonder why we are constantly shown only mothers who've taken to the role like cheerful kamikaze pilots. Another curious observation I've made is that most of these Maa songs are sung by sons. Why aren't there as many Maa songs sung by daughters? Maybe because the daughters have an inkling that this shit ain't true. I think they know it in their bones that mothers are human and might prefer going to the toilet when nature calls over feeding a hungry baby.
Dear GBM, I cannot trim your nails. I cannot give you a bath. I'm not the best at putting you to sleep. All I can do is run to you at your first howl and feed you. And yes, my singing calms you down. The only other person who has the same effect on you is MS Subbulakshmi. Who would have thought. Sometimes, I think you deserve better and your behaviour which is actually golden in comparison to most other newborns should get far more appreciation than I'm able to dole out. But thankfully, I don't feel guilty. Like I said, I only need to go online to know I'm normal. If not for a space where women are finally speaking out and narrating their experiences without mincing words, I'd have let the likes of Vairamuthu and Vaali judge me. You see, motherhood would have been easy if I had indeed been God. But I'm only human. And that makes me greater.
With love,
Your panda-eyed mother.
13 comments:
"But motherhood is like a game of Chinese Whispers. You start it and by the time you go a full circle, you are pretty much clueless about how things changed the way they did. Somewhere in between, you lose control and surrender to fate" - isn't that a good description of life itself. (In the sense that one cannot always expect and predict how things are doing to proceed, how it would affect them, how it would make one feel etc.)
It is true that the "real" aspects of any experience is rarely portrayed in movies etc. I think as people we might think that only the best aspects of anything is worth remembering (probably the reason why there are not as many break-up movies as movies about love). Or may be the creators are not bold enough or resourceful enough to present such things in a presentable way.
But "keeping it real" is surely a must. Not necessarily the easiest, but truth is worth sharing and in most circumstances enabling.
"When that is the truth. It may not be poetic. But like war, it could be made to sound so." - completely agree, and liked the hard-hitting candidness of those lines.
And these: "f not for a space where women are finally speaking out and narrating their experiences without mincing words, I'd have let the likes of Vairamuthu and Vaali judge me."
Hugs, GB...I remember telling my husband very bluntly when my daughter was 2 months old, that I hated being a mother. That was ten years ago....and I didn't have the blogworld to let me know it was okay to feel that way.
By the way I choked and took a while to recover reading "What a shock it'd be if they instead showed a half-crazy woman with bad hair looking down with fright at this tiny stranger who is howling at her breast in an antiseptic hospital room?"...spot on!
And so right....daughters indeed aren't shown singing mother-love songs!
P.S. the panda eyes should get better by the time GBM is 3-4 mths... :)
TOTALLY agree. I was a first-time mom too exactly a year ago - and if it hadnt been for the candid posts I'd read, I'm pretty sure I would have been overridden with guilt. That and a very practical husband unaffected by Bollywood-ish ideas of motherhood (I will never again berate him for his unromantic ideas :)). Give yourself lots of time, and very soon, you'll find yourself navigating the terrain effortlessly.
loved the "wanted to brush but you gave me a bath" interpretation - made me burst out into a laughter ... but I am guilty of liking "Naanaaga Naanillai thaaye" song atleast the first three words as a phrase used to be captivating and the tone with which it is sung ... was great in deep shit self pity moments :) ...
and honest blogging, from a seasoned writer can do wonders for many, keep it coming ... it will do wonders for you and a lot more for others! being the kid who called the emperor naked can be fun and revolutionary!
Thank God there is someone else who thinks like me !
I thought I was the only mother who thought that ways...but glad you said it here...hugs darling and this is only for a few more months ;) after that its sheer craziness :)
Hey! I think all of us feel that way - especially the lack of sleep. I've cried and screamed and said why cant he talk!! All when he was just about 1 mnth old and I didnt know what to do for his colicky cries. I've lamented that Im the worst mother and this was soo not for me... So, hang in there and in a few months there will be new challenges!
I think pregnancy and motherhood were much tougher pre-internet!!! Other mothers all seemed to have their act together, it was hard to breech that barrier!
I remember one of my friends telling me that when she had her baby, she didn't feel that the baby was the joy of her life. Instead, she was happy to get rid of him from within :D... Now tho she enjoys him..
Take care girl. And I think ur sense of humour will help u sail thru...Absolutely love ur posts :)
I am glad for having read this honest post from a new mom:)Congrats for your baby! And yes you got me thinking on the same lines about maa songs..
You express yourself so well...and love your sense of humor :).
I have a 16-month old, and exactly know how you must be feeling now. It DOES get better. And just enjoy the little things, taking it one day at a time. I would wake up at 3am to nurse, then after she goes back to sleep, I would spend a few mins in the backyard gazing at the stars (we live on top of a hill with no street lights so it's beautiful at night), sometimes I would get to see the sunrise. I would read blogs or baby websites. As my friend V told me recently, I did not let the "job" of parenting take over the "joy" :). Hugz n much love!
This is way for helpful than you think xO I suddenly lowe my maaaaa! :P
My mom grew up in a village and it was very common for women to give birth in their homes - very few had access to hospitals. It was also common for teenagers like my mom to help in the kitchen of the woman in labor. In those occasions, my mom has distinct memories where women in labor were shush-shushed if they screamed "too much".
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