A Mother’s Heart…
Jina got up with a raging headache. The restless night had left her exhausted. But she had to feed her four-month-old baby and the six-year-old who was currently staring at her from the doorway. Gibby, her daughter, was up early on a Saturday. It meant something wasn’t just up, it was roaring in the sky alongside the dark clouds hovering over the house.
She needed just five more minutes of the sleep that eluded her. Today, even the sun was hiding, seeking its bedtime behind the veil of the clouds. Ron, her husband, wasn’t anywhere either. The entire house was running early except for her.
She got up and rubbed her face. Jina looked at the baby Liam snoring in the red crib. She had painted it red last month. Because Liam always smiled at the red rattle that Jina had purchased in the sixth month of her pregnancy. She had wanted the baby growing inside her to get used to the sounds of the world so that when it came out, it wasn’t shocked by the noises around him. So even though she understood he couldn’t clearly see the color, a mother’s heart had painted the crib a bright red.
She turned to stare at Gibby. “I will be down in a few, honey. Run along.”
“How much time, mommy?”
“Ten minutes?”
“Okay, I will inform dad.” The daddy’s informer glided down the stairs. With the innate smartness the kid was born with, Gibby knew her mother wasn’t in a shape to scold her this time for doing that. And she was right. Jina didn’t have the strength to ask her to slow down.
In her head, Jina tried hard to remember the date. Being at home from the past six months had merged the days into months. She knew only two days- the weekdays and the weekends. The weekdays took most of her morning and the afternoon driving the kid to and fro from school and the ballet classes, doing the laundry, vacuuming the house, checking the mail, cooking, and playing with the baby- the weekends, everything minus the driving around in the crazy traffic.
She counted the days and calculated her period was a week away. That wasn’t a relaxing thought, but it just was what it was. But it meant she had nothing to crib about today. As if insulted, the headache stormed her forehead, and she yelped.
Was she coming down with something? No, no, no. That shouldn’t happen. The kids had to be fed. The fridge had to be cleaned. The garage was a mess. Gibby’s room needed some rearrangement. And that rearrangement required a day-long convincing and some bribe. She had to come up with a sly bribe.
Ron’s navy-stripped blazer had to be dry-cleaned for the data-science conference in the coming week. The man would forget his wife if she didn’t remind him about it.
She sighed. So much to do today, and she had no enthusiasm to face the day. It was a first. Maybe she was coming down with the post-partum depression. She had read about it. But there was nothing to be depressed about, she frowned. She had two beautiful kids. A loving, although forgetful husband. A home, which made her happy. Plus, she wasn’t working. There wasn’t anyone sitting on her head, stressing her down. And yet, she wanted to run away for just an hour from everything. She wanted some quiet for sixty damn minutes.
Did that make her ungrateful? A bad mother? Two kids needed feeding, and she wanted her solitude. What did that say about her?
She looked at Liam and his fisted hands. Did it mean he was hungry? Or was it the other way round? Was it the vaccination day? She had to check her calendar — the one with neatly written notes for everyone in the family. Where was her phone? She looked around. When she couldn’t find it, she wanted to scream.
Was it the- wrong side of the bed or something? She couldn’t remember the adage, and she was a pro at tossing them. What was wrong with her? A tear spilled out of her miserable eyes. This was all wrong. Why was she crying? She just wanted some sleep — something to drive away the headache pulling at her hair. But the tears wouldn’t stop. She didn’t want to cry. She never cried. Why today? Her babies needed her. She had to stop this insanity.
Jina dropped to the bed, and with her face in her hands, she cried herself dry.
A soft sound from the crib jolted her. She rushed to it and looked at the baby. All the sunshine that had been hiding, mirrored in Liam’s wide, toothless smile. The worries, self-doubts, headaches hoarding in her, silently dropped away.
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A mother’s life starts and ends with her kids. But somewhere in there, she forgets to be a human. Does it take anything to remind her of it? A baby understands it, so should we.
