#Motherhood
Motherhood teaches you the value of self-care and free time. Because you learn how to steal the moments that are free of nursing, cuddles and rocking baby to sleep, and do something to rejuvenate yourself so you can give more.
~*~*~*~*~
Motherhood teaches you purpose. Because even sleepless nights have a purpose. In the short run it my not seem the case, but in the long term, we will see the fruits of the sacrifices we made.
~*~*~*~*~
When you become a parent you feel emotions you never felt before. You experience a new world. Sometimes, it can feel like a world only you know, only you’re living in. It can be lonely. Until, your eyes meet the eyes of another parent. Also, going through the same experience. The tears, the smiles, the cuddles, the gratitude, the worries, the fear, the love. You don’t need to speak the same language to relate or understand. You just know. You’re all in the same boat, trying your best to raise one of the best.. and that’s all that matters
~*~*~*~*~
There’s something Allah places in the heart of a mother that makes her resilient and strong yet weak and soft and loving at the same time. Both these qualities — strength and weakness combined is what makes her a walking miracle and equips her to deal with the highs and lows of motherhood.
#BecauseEvenMothersAreMiracles
~*~*~*~*~
“Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.
Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.
I’m no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind’s hand.
All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.
One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat’s. The window square
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.” — Sylvia Plath
