Motherhood

I am happy

Darkness. So bright. She stared.

She stared helplessly into the vastness of a brightly lit cramped room. Fear, cold, thirst, exhaustion ravaged her.

"Is this the happiest moment of my life?"

Her body raw, broken and bleeding, from the fresh cuts of the surgeon's knife.

"Is this happiness?"

Her throat parched, her body shivers from the miracle of birth.

"Water" she cries weakly. "Somebody"

A woman appears, she is smiling. Her face looks so kind.

Her floral scrubs are a stark contrast to the bleakness of the room.

"Nearly there, honey. In an hour we can give you some ice chips".

And then, she is alone.

She is recovering her senses. Numbness. Body and Soul.

" Is my baby o.k?, where am I?"

From the far corner of the room, she catches a glimpse of colour. The colour of life, of celebration, of her party. A crack of the door, allowing a stream of light and sound from an otherwise grayscale world.

She could recognize her family, cooing over a wrapped bundle of coos and gurgles. Comfort, so close yet so far.

She closed her eyes, and felt the swells of hot tears on her lashes. The bright light over her bed, the stiff cotton sheets, barely covering her modesty. Exposed and vulnerable.

She clutched the sides of the hospital bed. She was falling deep. Deep into a bottomless pit. Almost like the earth was about to swallow her.

Hollow. Dark. Empty.

"I will fight. She said. I am a warrior."

She balances her babbling baby on her lap. Holding his tiny fists in her hands.

"He is so beautiful". Perfect, unlike me.

Months had passed, not a new mother anymore. Her appearance had changed. She had wrinkles and bags under her eyes. The body she had once been so proud of, bore the scars of birth. Her hair once raven black and lustrous, are wisps secured by a thin elastic blue band.

She lived for her child, and her child through her.

He gurgled happily as he nursed, locking eyes and grasping fingers. In that moment, they were united. She was where she was supposed to be.

Her reverie was soon broken.

An older female relative chortled "I had lost all my baby weight by the time my baby was eight months old."

She hung her head in shame. Maybe it was the extra bread at dinner, or the chocolate cake last Thursday.

She closed her eyes, and counted the seconds in deep breaths.

This too shall pass.

I will fight, she said. "I am a warrior".

  "Excuuuse me, 'maam?"

A large angry looking woman in uniform, shot her an irate look.

Huh? She snapped back to reality. Blinding bright lights, loud clangs and noisy, rude voices from every direction seemed to drown out her senses.

"M'aam! You are in line at airport security. Please control your child.

She scanned the room frantically. Her child, oblivious to the tense atmosphere around him was rolling on the ground two rows away giggling happily.

Frustrated passengers clicked their tongues and shook their heads. They side stepped the toddler carefully, mumbling to themselves.

Her giant bags crammed with baby essentials and snacks felt like boulders over her thin shoulders. She hastily broke into a run, screaming her child's name. She felt tears stream down her face, the weight of those bags weighing her down.

Her child enthused by the sight of his mother running, picked himself up and darted between the fiercely segregated security lines.

"Catch me if you can" his innocents eyes twinkled with happiness. He could only see a beautiful world of joy and happiness, of fun and frolic. It will be years before he becomes just another figure clothed in layers shuffling through airport lines with a dead expression.

She sat down on the floor in a thump. She closed her eyes and tried to deafen the angry voices calling out to her. She knew she had only a second before she had to deal with it.

" I can do this. I am a warrior. I will fight."