Patience and Love

All good things come with patience and love. These were ideals that I held dearly in my heart throughout the course of my pregnancy.

It is such a cliché to say that becoming a mother will change you and your perspective on life. I will be honest, there were times in my younger days when I scoffed at those reminiscent feelings that my mother bestowed on me. The truth is it’s not that we are unaware of the beauty of life, but it’s just one of those things that cannot be explained until you walk down that path that many have walked before you.

The day my baby was conceived, me and Raja were over the moon with joy. But as the saying goes, with great power comes great responsibility. In nine months I was to be honored with the gift of motherhood and all the responsibilities that it entailed for us. The countless trips to the gynecologist became a natural part of my routine.

One of the perceived misconceptions of being pregnant is that it limits your lifestyle. On the contrary, my pregnancy days were filled with a myriad of tiny moments that live with you for the entirety of your life. These moments stick with you and these are the very moments that make day-to-day life exciting. You more or less knew the theoretical progression of the pregnancy due to the extensive guides and reports provided by the doctors, but you never knew what to expect when it happened. For instance, I knew I was due in two weeks but my son had other plans for me, and took to life with a sense of urgency. Now that I think about it, he retains that quality to this day. In a way, just as my baby prepared itself to take the first breaths of life in our world, I too was experiencing many firsts in my life. Probably a small and slow step for an outside human, but a proud and memorable step for a mother. Thus, the symbiotic relationship continues.

One such cherished memory from those days that I hold dearly in my heart is the time my baby kicked for the first time. It happened around dinner time, when Raja was setting the table. He gently rubbed my stomach and said, “You better eat well.” I replied, “Sure” when he chuckled and said, “Oh, I was talking to the little one”. I laughed from the bottom of my heart, and I suppose my son could feel it too because I felt a sharp tap in my belly. It caught me off guard for a moment, until I realized what had occurred. My baby had made his first kick. Yet again, a tiny sensation for me, a huge step for him, and together creating a moment in our memories.

Every night, Raja would sit with me and we would talk hours upon hours about coming up with dreams and visions for our child. We had decided that we didn’t want to know the gender of our child until we would see it for ourselves. Looking back, it was the best decision possible as it made the nature of our debates about potential names so much more suspenseful.

Nothing could have prepared me for my delivery. When I recovered after my surgery and saw my baby boy, I got lost in the innate beauty of that moment. A sparkle of organic euphoria existed in that moment when I witnessed the magic of a mother’s creation.

When and where will the 8 Billionth person be born?