Baby Steps into Motherhood

I was 31 and my husband 35 when we got married. It was an arranged marriage. During our courtship days, we had shared dreams of our family with each other and we decided to embrace parenthood soon. I had moved to a new city after marriage. I was comfortable going the family way before restarting my career.

I belong to a traditional family, where pregnancy is a prayerful celebration. Our announcement of my pregnancy was welcomed with love and support. My mother-in-law flew down from her native to help me cope up with the initial days. I remember, I cried when the doctor first showed me the expanded image of a baby-like being in my womb. During the 5th month of pregnancy, I visited my home. With loads of love and care, my grandmother initiated me into some chantings and practices to be followed to have a ‘healthy baby blessed with good qualities’. I returned to my husband and as days passed, the bond we shared grew stronger. But some time around the 6th month, I started feeling fearful and tense for some reason. I was healthy and the reports suggested the baby was fine as well. Towards the end of an ‘uneventful’ pregnancy (as mentioned by the doctor in my discharge card), I delivered a baby boy.

Both the families rejoiced. My mothers (my mother and mother-in-law) were by my side. My baby and I were taken care of well. For me, that small bundle looked like a baby doll that slept most of the time, shook its legs and hands, made some weird noise, and cried when hungry! I am the youngest of my siblings. I hadn’t got a chance to caress a small baby before. It was an all-new experience for me.

I felt, on becoming a mother, I was naturally expected to know the baby and its ways! My inept ways of holding the baby, feeding, or arranging my baby's things were all pointed out.

It was like “how could you not know?” or “at your age, I was like…” which made me feel inadequate sometimes. However, I still tried to follow as guided.

Later, I visited my native with the baby. Most elderly women we met there had mothered two or more children and they all seemed experts in baby care. They all shared different ideas and sometimes got miffed if those were not valued enough! My baby was growing and started entertaining everyone with some new tricks every day. I was trying to enjoy the moments but was feeling somewhat indifferent. I just could not understand the baby's ways and it grew into a sense of “Maybe I’m not good at these things”.

By then, it had been almost two years since I took a break from my profession. I started feeling out of the stream and uneasy about being financially dependent. My mothers belonged perhaps to the first generation of ‘working mothers’ who navigated through their chosen careers while trying to manage their households like ‘at home mothers’ (Those were the times when topics like gender roles, menstrual leaves, paternity benefits, etc were not discussed). They assured me that they would take care of everything when I start working. But I decided to wait till the baby grew up, as a profession these days might demand working extended hours.

As days passed, I found motherhood more and more challenging. My child was growing fast. He was naughty for his age and demanded more attention. I started finding even the routine matters like what to feed the child, how to play with him, and how to respond to his talks, strenuous and confusing. It was most difficult when he cried, it made me feel startled. I didn't know what to do then and would just keep looking at him from some distance. I found myself unable to connect with the child.

People around me didn't seem to understand. I got feelers like ‘What is this big fuss in managing just a single child when you do not even have to go to work? There are so many women managing everything, then why can't you?’. My mind started wreaking havoc. I felt helpless and stopped sharing my feelings with anyone. I felt inadequate and worthless.

I started feeling maybe it's good if I'm not around my son, he would then be better taken care of.

Some fears started gripping me. Certain belief systems and family experiences added to those fears. I broke down every time I tried to communicate with my husband. He was not able to understand what exactly I was going through. I spent those days in some sort of disbelief about myself. I used to think that a woman is blessed with motherhood by Mother Nature. “It is in me”. I could not figure out why I was finding it so overwhelming. I sought solace in prayer, which gave me assurances but not a solution.

As our child grew, we started feeling the financial pressures of an expanded family. I was emotionally shaken but wanted to start work. I thought my child might need to socialise more so that he would be comfortable when I would be away. But it seemed, he was taking cues from me. The more I tried to keep him away, the crankier he got. He started to hold on to me and expressed anger, tantrums, and fears. I didn't know how to manage these and my confused reactions came in the form of hitting him which made me feel so guilty and sad. It grew into a stage when I started feeling anxious of the time he came back from school, that I might harm him.

When my child was running all around, I was still trying to balance my baby steps through motherhood. That's when, with the support of my husband, I decided to seek professional help.

To be continued.