End of a normal life

Alice's Soliloquy

What exactly does it mean to be a mother?

There are more than a few definitions, but when people hear this question, there are several thoughts that could occur as a result of their own innate understanding.

Mother was a title given to women who had been blessed with a child, this was merely a biological aspect of it but it was one of the main things that gave one the title of "mother".

Mother was also a title given to women who had played roles such as nurturing, caring for and raising a child.

A mother was a good role model and teacher for her child, someone they'd look up to no matter what because of the love they showed them and always come to them when there was something they didn't understand or needed help with.

A mother was also a protector and a support system for her children, offering guidance and assistance when they face life's challenges and protecting them from physical and emotional harm even at the cost of themselves.

All because of the love they had for the child or children they gave birth to, but sometimes even women who adopted children and showed them love and care befitting of what was known as a "motherly figure" were considered mothers.

But.... where do I stand?

Funny enough the only proof that I was a mother was that I checked the first box, I had children.

Aside from that?

I did care for, nurture, and raise my children properly.... No I didn't, I made a fatal mistake.

As a mother no matter how old your children become, they will always be your children. They may grow up to be as independent as ever, but they will always have that little part of themselves that relied on you when things got tough. I had wrongly assumed my children were old enough to take care of themselves without me, a fatal flaw in my method of raising them and all that has led to is chaos.

It may not be raging and rampaging, but the turmoil and tension riddled in this household was chaos, nonetheless.

I failed to properly nurture, I failed to be a proper role model and teacher, and I absolutely failed to be a protector and support system.

I was an absolute failure of a mother and a woman, the very worst in my opinion.

I could still vividly remember, the days I gave birth to my first born Sasha. I was elated, I was what one would call the happiest woman alive, my very first born child after 9 months of anticipation, pain, and stress, I had finally given birth to a beautiful baby girl and she looked just like me.

I promised to raise her with love and care with everything I have, my husband and I would do our absolute best.

And then I was pregnant again.

This time with twins, I was even more worried than ever yet the bright face of my daughter who had heard from her loving father that she would have siblings to take care of fueled me and erased my worries.

To me there was nothing stronger than the bond between family, and my husband mirrored this sentiment as well.

And then, I gave birth. The first boy looked just like my husband, he had his same hair, eyes, everything, my husband was elated, he had a child that looked just like him, now I wasn't able to make fun of him by saying I had the stronger genes.

My next child though looked nothing like us, but he greatly resembled my grandfather when he was a baby, so much so that I cried that night, my entire being filled with nostalgia and memories of my late grandfather.

When he opened his eyes, his dark grey eyes bore into my brown ones and reached out to my face, I knew that this boy would be just as kind and loving as his grandfather was, and I was happy that I would be the one to guide him on his journey.