A much belated Happy Mother’s Day to all you wonderful mums out there. I had really wanted to post on the day itself, but unfortunately, our family was pretty busy at the time.
This year, I spent Mother’s Day in the hospital due to Jamie needing to be admitted to treat a lingering high fever. It was a most unexpected turn of events, but despite all of that, I was glad to be able to be there for my son at a time when he most needed comfort and tender loving care.
(Of course, I did not do this alone. My husband, Deric was wonderfully supportive, and was present at the ward with us too. And my parents made frequent stops to see us and to help us in whatever ways were possible.)
Well, I guess there’s no better way to spend Mother’s Day than doing what makes you a mother in the first place: Meeting the needs of your child. Regardless of where that takes me, I should do it with pride. And so I did what I could this year, while marooned in the children’s ward with Jamie.
I slept in the same hospital bed with him because I knew that would comfort him and help him cope better in such a strange environment. I did my best to soothe him verbally, besides patting him gently whenever medicine needed to be administered and he seemed apprehensive about the entire ordeal. We also let him try some of the hospital food to indulge his curiousity and to cheer him up a little, even though he would not normally be given commercial produce or food prepared outside of home). And we brought him a few things from home to make his stay a little more cosy.
Honestly, as with other times when caring for Jamie, I don’t always know what I should do. But somehow, at the moment itself, the ideas come and my husband and I just kind of just roll with it. I cannot say that I am always this selfless woman who sacrifices everything for her son because there are times where I am tired, I get grouchy and I don’t always behave at my best with him. I do keep trying though.
Sometimes it feels quite pointless to pour in so much effort into raising kids at this age because I’m told they don’t remember any of it once they’re older. I mean, I don’t recall a thing about my life prior to my kindergarten days either. So I do often wonder what difference it would all make. However, these are supposed to be the most formative years of a child’s life and I’ve learned that whatever we expose them to at this season of their life could very well impact how they are for the rest of their days. Which leaves me with a pretty heavy burden, but one I must shoulder nonetheless.
There’s no way I can be a perfect parent, which is what scares me. But hopefully, as I do whatever I can, somehow, in some mysterious way, by God’s grace, he will grow up to be a confident, respectable man in the way I hope he will be.
As much books as you try to read, or advice that you solicit from others, there’s nothing that can completely prepare you for dealing with the unique challenges that your very own child presents. I’m learning new things everyday. It’s scary. It’s crazy. But I’m still here, and glad that I chose at some point in my life to become a mother.
I hope you are too. And would love to hear about your own tales of motherly valour. Do drop us a line below.