The mother in me feels ecstatic when the baby latches perfectly,
And then worries if the baby is getting enough milk.
The mother in me feels blessed to have an angel of a child,
And is then ashamed of the times when i felt irritated and frustated.
The mother in me waits for the baby to sleep so that she can finish the household chores,
and then finds herself longingly scrolling through the hundreds of baby’s pictures and videos on her phone and waiting for her baby to wake up.
The mother in me can’t wait to see her baby crossing another milestone,
And yet wants to cherish the present a little longer.
The mother in me is proud when the baby finishes a cup of carrot puree,
And then worries the next day when she sees red bits in baby’s poop next day. ( well, hello solid food adventures).
The mother in me wants to record baby’s every little update
and at the same time fears of missing out on any of the baby’s firsts.
The mother in me is in awe of my mother who sings lullabies to my baby every single time to make her sleep,
And then wonders if i can be as good as a mother as her.
The mother in me shared all my vulnerabilities and fears to my mother, to which she simply replied “it happens with every mother.”
The mother in me, i guess, is like every other mother.
Dedicated to all the mothers. Happy Mother’s Day.