I looked at him with much fear. I even came to a point of praying that he not wake up, not just yet, not at least until I stopped crying.
He was a tiny creature, breathing silently, full of innocence—but to me, he was like a beautiful monster.
It had been a month since I delivered Rhiniel Ace, a healthy 6.4-pound baby boy who came into this world after my nine-hour labor. It was the most challenging month of my life.
The pain of breastfeeding was unimaginable, and my stitches made it a lot harder for me to sit for our sessions.
I guess I can say that for the first two weeks, I was almost suffering from postpartum depression, something I never thought I would experience because I had never been that emotional. Boy, was I wrong.
The physical and emotional stress was unbearable. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw someone I disliked: fat, with lactating breasts and unmanageable hair. I looked horrible. I felt horrible. There were times when he wouldn’t sleep from 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. Those were times when I almost lost my mind. I never thought it would be so hard.
But the whole experience has brought me to my most profound realizations.
Having a support group is heaven-sent. I am really blessed to have friends and relatives who care so much to make me feel secure in my most unsure moments as a first-time mom. They’ve been generous in sharing their knowledge about nurturing my newborn.
Motherhood is one tough job. The sacrifices of our mothers are unquestionable; everything was driven by their overflowing love for their children.
It sounds like a cliché but it’s true: Motherhood has made me appreciate my mom more than ever. I now understand why she tended to be so emotional when it came to me and my brother—why she was so brave in protecting us, why she so easily gave up anything for us… The list of her selfless acts for her children can go on forever.
I have also come to appreciate my mother-in-law, for letting go of her firstborn (my husband) to another woman (me), and for accepting the fact that she’s no longer the only woman in his life. I can just imagine how, years from now, this little precious bundle I hold close to my heart will find and marry a woman of his dreams, and will need me a little less than today.
And, of course, my father is worth mentioning, too. He made his own sacrifices and worked double-time to provide for all our needs.
I wrote this in honor of my mom, my mother-in-law, my grandmothers, my aunts, my “mommy friends,” and every other mother out there. Thank you for being the silent hero in your children’s lives. Sorry if sometimes, if not most of the time, you are misunderstood and taken for granted.
And without meaning to sound preachy, I hope somehow that my message reaches every son and daughter who in one way or another resented their folks. You have no idea how much your parents sacrificed for you. I know that every time they see you all grown up and living your own life, a part of them wishes that they could go back to that time when you were still a baby and needed no one but them. When you become parents, too, you will understand your parents’ hopes and fears. Believe me, I just did.
Now I just have to focus on all the positive things that motherhood has brought me. Our baby is the most beautiful blessing God has given our marriage. He’s the epitome of the love that my husband and I found in each other. He’s the reason we are learning to be better persons.
I’ve realized that parenthood is a long if not endless road. I believe that my husband and I have to brace for more trials, hard work, tears, and sacrifices, but I’m sure that we can withstand everything through prayer, and we will be strengthened by every smile, kiss, hug, “thank you” and “I love you” that our child (or, God willing, children) will give us.
Parenthood is worth all the sacrifice. And in my eyes my baby is no longer a beautiful monster but the most beautiful gift ever.
Irhine Quintana Bandong, 27, is a housewife.