The gift of motherhood has been accorded to me at a sweet age. On the advent of my twenties, my womb cradled an innocent angel. Often perceived as a rough go obligation, the optimist in me decided to embrace it as euphoria.
With the dawning of this personal epoch, I saw the need for my emotional rebirth. Following the teeming sessions of pondering in the backwoods, I gathered enough strength to kiss my fears goodbye. I likewise encouraged my mother, who was so affected by my situation, to accept what happened to me. Besides, why should energy be wasted for all those boohoo? After all, babies will not be considered “bundles of joy” for no reason.
At present, I’m a doting mother of a charming six-year-old and an energetic one-and-a-half. It would be hypocrisy should I say that motherhood would be like walking in the clouds. There were several occasions that I found myself seeming to be obliged to thread a yarn in an almost eyeless needle. However, believe me when I say that motherhood, or even parenthood in general, is a gift that will make your life more meaningful. The parental struggles that you might face are nothing compared to the bliss that your children will give you.
The joy that I felt with the births of my children cannot be compared to anything. Up to this point in time, I can’t find the right words to describe the feelings contained in my heart the first time I heard their cries. I daresay, the sensation was much better than orgasm.
Moreso, the best part of it is that momentous event was just the beginning of several experiences… events that I will be dying to share. If you have a child, there’s never a dull moment. The usual thrill of seeing their first smile, first laugh, and first step are mere ho-hums compared to the other joyous firsts you will witness in their lives. They will also have some unfortunate yet comic misadventures that will make you worry for a few minutes, but chuckle afterwards.
Given that I’m still unwed up to this point in time; my family is still in a bittersweet mode when it comes to accepting that I’m a mother. In a society that is founded in religion and morality, my situation is considered a curse. To spare my reputation, I could have just undergone a secret abortion, or could have just compelled the father to marry me even if we’re not emotionally ready. But abortion is murder, and marriage is a sacrament that you should only enter into when BOTH parties are ready to commit. With this, is single parenthood really something to be ashamed of?
Nonetheless, innocent of the condemnations thrown at us, my children go on with their usual, and celebrate each day like a blessing. On those days that I seem to be aloof or when I’m on the verge of my silent screams, they suddenly manage to pull-off some antics like natural stand-ups. No matter how gravid
Each time that I see my daughter and son sharing moments of laughter; the painful memories of my past fades away. Each time I see my children bring out the soft side of my father; the more I treasure my family. Each time I find myself embraced by their sticky arms, I know that I have all the reasons to be proud and undaunted of the bashing accusations of others. After all motherhood is not a popularity contest that obliges you to please everybody… it’s all about what your children think of you and what you would make out of them.
