The First Mother’s Day

It’s my first mother’s day. And while I fantasize about drinking a glass (or maybe a bottle) of wine by myself under the sun, I look at her tiny hands reaching to my chest, her small face drifting to a peaceful sleep while she nurses, and I think I’m good just where I am.

It’s been 8 months since my baby was born, and I thought at this point I should probably have my shit together. As it turns out, I don’t. Will I ever? I thought mothers had special powers. Like heroes, like mutants or bored millionaires who want to save the world… but that’s just not true. Mothers are human beings made from flesh and bones like everyone else. They suffer, they cry, they get tired, they lose their temper, they question their parenting skills all the time, they feel guilt. Tons of it. Because everything is mama’s fault.

This is an incredibly difficult job, the hardest one and the most undervalued one. Maybe because people just assume mothers are magical entities, that they have it easier. Maybe because we, mothers, don’t want to show the ever fragile state of our tender hearts. As soon as you become a mother, there is a pain that never goes away: a part of yourself, once confined and growing inside your body, is now outside in the world becoming a being on its own. While you overflow with joy and love at every milestone your baby goes through, you also hurt because they are learning to fly, and one day they will…

Once I thought mother’s day was just yet another date for consumerism and to make people spend money on stuff. Well, I wasn’t a mother then… a little appreciation goes a long way for those who undergo a tremendous change in their bodies, minds and souls to bring life into the world. Because mothers are judged all the time, by others and by themselves; they abdicate of their own identity until baby is old enough to be perceived as a being on its own. I once read a post from a mother saying that she was shattered in a thousand pieces during birth, and she was slowly collecting all those pieces to recreate who she was. That’s a very accurate description of the process we go through, and I think I still have quite a lot of pieces to figure out.

Gratitude to all mothers in the world, and specially to my own mama who always told me, wisely: “when you have children, you will finally understand”…