Maternal Instincts
Maternal instincts. The depth of the two words has always frightened me. What did that feel like? Did my mom feel maternal? Or my grandmother? Will I feel maternal and beat my fists on my chest, just like King Kong, if something happened to my cub? The responsibility that came with those two words seemed daunting.
Maternal hails from the word ‘mother’ and instinct is described by Google dictionary as a feeling rather than an opinion or idea based on facts. Put the two words together and then what? I always thought I would just never be a woman who felt it. Come on, who am I kidding…I was one of those women. A performer in school; best debater and orator, president of the halls of residence in varsity, a career go-getter with a soul, a purist in yoga and an alto voice in a boutique choir…being a mother was nice to have but not really that necessary. Add four decadent holidays and languorous sleep to that packed schedule and there is no space in there to be a mother.
And then, the mother of all motherhoods embraced me. I got pregnant and gave birth to my little prince. Right after delivery, I wasn’t one of those cooing mothers. I was groggy under the magnetic influence of the anesthetic after an emergency C-section. In fact, my husband was the chosen one to see him first and when he wheeled him into my room I was terrified!
Oh my Lord, what have I done…Reality tightened its grip on my every breath and for the next few nights I couldn’t sleep. Getting pregnant was fine and I had a fantastic pregnancy but now, I had a little urchin to care for.
Could I be a mother? I looked over at Arrian resting in his see-through crib. His eyes were closed and he was sleeping soundly, unaware of the shock waves ripping through his mother’s body.
I can’t say that maternal instincts hit me naturally in the next few days. I spent it all on getting to know my little fella. I studied every facial expression on his face; what carved a smile on his lips, the cause and effect of his cries and what his likes and dislikes were. Slowly but surely, I felt stirrings inside me. I just knew what Arrian wanted or needed by merely taking one look at him. I knew when he was uncomfortable or too hot or when he needed to feel physically close to his father or me. And what I loved was hearing his coy cry which translated to, “where are you? I need your body heat.”
Contrast this to my husband who is always looking at me for cues, ‘why is he crying’ or ‘does he look uncomfortable to you’ I always wondered why Sri was looking to me for answers. It was weird as he knew he wanted children whereas I thought they were nice to have. There were times when I felt bossy just telling Sri (versus peppering it with polite words) what precisely to do. And Sri listens…
Is it because he too instinctively knows that it is the maternal instinct side of me reacting? In the busyness of feeding, changing diapers, bathing, reading about babies and spending every waking moment with Arrian, I have never asked him. I love to hear his ideas as his flashes of brilliance is equal to striking the lottery.
Then comes the uncontrollable tears in maternal instincts. The visit to the paediatrician for routine jabs is an outing that gets me wound up a week before. The heart-aching part is when the doctor pokes the needle into my son’s thigh and he screams bloody murder. It doesn’t help that I am trying my best to distract him with a toy while choking on my tears. I detest those visits as I can’t see Arrian in pain with tears streaming down his cheeks and me feeling completely inadequate and helpless on how to lessen the pin-prick of a pain. In the taxi going home, I would sob. The biggest joke in the family is there is no need to fly to the Niagara Falls to see it, just head to the peadiatrician with us.
Is that maternal instincts? Not wanting to see your child in pain and wanting to do everything in your power to kiss it all away?
Then comes the issue of working full-time and balancing motherhood. I have always prized being the tai tai after children came along. I wanted to cook for them and expose them to sports, music, art, and the world. And to the women out there who have gone down this route, I salute you.
I returned to full time work after listening to Suze Orman, the personal finance guru and my guide. Women should work if this is your choice. Husbands can be great ATM machines but we never know if a secure, well paying job will be there when dawn breaks. And if an illness strikes, we shouldn’t be out of work for too long. And more than anything else, Sri and I want to retire early and sip margeritas every day. That drove me out of the house and into the arms of the workforce.
I still can’t say what precisely ‘maternal instincts’ mean or are meant to do. What I do know is the way Arrian makes me feel. He makes me feel alive even on days when tiredness seeps through my bones. He makes me see life positively and draw strength even during tough times. Arrian also puts a big smile on my lips. He makes me want to be a better human being. He makes me feel protective over him. He makes me less judgemental and more forgiving. He has taught me patience. He makes me want to make life happen just because he is around. He makes me see life in softer shades. He makes me love Sri in a maddening manner like I never have before. He brings out a side in me I never thought existed - can we perhaps call it, a maternal side?
Maternal hails from the word ‘mother’ and instinct is described by Google dictionary as a feeling rather than an opinion or idea based on facts. Put the two words together and then what? I always thought I would just never be a woman who felt it. Come on, who am I kidding…I was one of those women. A performer in school; best debater and orator, president of the halls of residence in varsity, a career go-getter with a soul, a purist in yoga and an alto voice in a boutique choir…being a mother was nice to have but not really that necessary. Add four decadent holidays and languorous sleep to that packed schedule and there is no space in there to be a mother.
And then, the mother of all motherhoods embraced me. I got pregnant and gave birth to my little prince. Right after delivery, I wasn’t one of those cooing mothers. I was groggy under the magnetic influence of the anesthetic after an emergency C-section. In fact, my husband was the chosen one to see him first and when he wheeled him into my room I was terrified!
Oh my Lord, what have I done…Reality tightened its grip on my every breath and for the next few nights I couldn’t sleep. Getting pregnant was fine and I had a fantastic pregnancy but now, I had a little urchin to care for.
Could I be a mother? I looked over at Arrian resting in his see-through crib. His eyes were closed and he was sleeping soundly, unaware of the shock waves ripping through his mother’s body.
I can’t say that maternal instincts hit me naturally in the next few days. I spent it all on getting to know my little fella. I studied every facial expression on his face; what carved a smile on his lips, the cause and effect of his cries and what his likes and dislikes were. Slowly but surely, I felt stirrings inside me. I just knew what Arrian wanted or needed by merely taking one look at him. I knew when he was uncomfortable or too hot or when he needed to feel physically close to his father or me. And what I loved was hearing his coy cry which translated to, “where are you? I need your body heat.”
Contrast this to my husband who is always looking at me for cues, ‘why is he crying’ or ‘does he look uncomfortable to you’ I always wondered why Sri was looking to me for answers. It was weird as he knew he wanted children whereas I thought they were nice to have. There were times when I felt bossy just telling Sri (versus peppering it with polite words) what precisely to do. And Sri listens…
Is it because he too instinctively knows that it is the maternal instinct side of me reacting? In the busyness of feeding, changing diapers, bathing, reading about babies and spending every waking moment with Arrian, I have never asked him. I love to hear his ideas as his flashes of brilliance is equal to striking the lottery.
Then comes the uncontrollable tears in maternal instincts. The visit to the paediatrician for routine jabs is an outing that gets me wound up a week before. The heart-aching part is when the doctor pokes the needle into my son’s thigh and he screams bloody murder. It doesn’t help that I am trying my best to distract him with a toy while choking on my tears. I detest those visits as I can’t see Arrian in pain with tears streaming down his cheeks and me feeling completely inadequate and helpless on how to lessen the pin-prick of a pain. In the taxi going home, I would sob. The biggest joke in the family is there is no need to fly to the Niagara Falls to see it, just head to the peadiatrician with us.
Is that maternal instincts? Not wanting to see your child in pain and wanting to do everything in your power to kiss it all away?
Then comes the issue of working full-time and balancing motherhood. I have always prized being the tai tai after children came along. I wanted to cook for them and expose them to sports, music, art, and the world. And to the women out there who have gone down this route, I salute you.
I returned to full time work after listening to Suze Orman, the personal finance guru and my guide. Women should work if this is your choice. Husbands can be great ATM machines but we never know if a secure, well paying job will be there when dawn breaks. And if an illness strikes, we shouldn’t be out of work for too long. And more than anything else, Sri and I want to retire early and sip margeritas every day. That drove me out of the house and into the arms of the workforce.
I still can’t say what precisely ‘maternal instincts’ mean or are meant to do. What I do know is the way Arrian makes me feel. He makes me feel alive even on days when tiredness seeps through my bones. He makes me see life positively and draw strength even during tough times. Arrian also puts a big smile on my lips. He makes me want to be a better human being. He makes me feel protective over him. He makes me less judgemental and more forgiving. He has taught me patience. He makes me want to make life happen just because he is around. He makes me see life in softer shades. He makes me love Sri in a maddening manner like I never have before. He brings out a side in me I never thought existed - can we perhaps call it, a maternal side?