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I hoisted baby ‘E’ for the third time in 40 minutes. I did not like the angle at which he had turned his head, his nose was not visible to me. I was intent on monitoring his breathing, lest the bed sheet mistakenly cover his nose. So there I was, fretting and fussing over my little ward who seemed oblivious to my dilenma. Since for that minute I did not trust the crib anymore, I decided to just hold him in my arms while he slept. That was the safest place possible, was it not? The only problem with that, was that I could not get anything else done and boy did I have a whole lot to do.
Baby ‘E’ instantly wriggled into my heart with his innocent and trusting stare and chubby cheeks. He was the picture of health and cuteness if you ask me. He was not a demanding baby, just yelped for his basic needs when necessary. He was a delight, so I found my self in mother heaven. I watched his every move. When I changed his diapers, I cleaned until his derriere squeaked. His clothes were washed and lined up so. His closet was impeccably arranged. And when I dressed him up (which was at least three (3) times a day; what??? he is a baby), it all matched until he spat-up and ruined my ensemble. If he touched anything, I made sure his hands were wiped before traveling to his mouth. If his toys or stuffed animals as much as grazed the floor well you know… This mother hen was obsessed.
I watched baby ‘E’ like a hawk lest there should be any mishaps. Thank God there wasn’t. I wanted to hand him back in the same condition I got him or maybe a rounder and bigger version. Baby ‘E’s cries tore at my heart any time I heard it (as if babies were not supposed to cry) and I sought to chastise whoever was responsible. Baby ‘E’ caught on real quick and proceeded to wrap me around his little finger. He would play, chew on his toy and gurgle ever so loudly. But when he heard my voice, he wanted to be picked up right away. And even further, he whined till I stood with him and twirled all over the house like I always did. Now my hands were really full. But you know what though, I did not mind. For when I was with baby ‘E’, it was all about caring and tending to him and his needs.
Alas, I had seriously spoiled baby ‘E’, and he was merely acting out what I taught him. Would I have dealt with my own flesh and blood so ceremoniously, probably not. For if I created an ‘entitled monster’, I had myself to blame for the rest of my life. My time with baby ‘E’ was short, and I wanted to make it sweet and memorable for him; if at all one can do that with a six month old baby. We met when he was just two(2) plus months. You see baby ‘E’ was a priceless responsibility for a season and I dealt with him as I do with my treasured and priceless assets. I handled him with care, love, commitment and of course tremendous sacrifice. Is that not the heart of a mother? (Proverbs 29:21 NKJV )
I read a commentary by a very foolish woman and her equally foolish cohorts on the internet the other day. They were commenting on an Easter Play and likened their hearts to the heart of Mary ‘the Mother of Jesus‘. I guess they attained to that level because they physically birthed children. And they probably felt ‘one-up’ on the ones they thought had no physical seed. But here is some Bible lesson for those that will seldom touch the book.
Mary was divinely PICKED by God to carry Jesus, Mary was obedient to God, Mary did not try to trap Joseph with Jesus, Mary was betrothed to Joseph and He knew she was a chaste woman. Mary knowing who Jesus her Son was, never tried to use him for fame or notoriety. Mary cultivated a conducive, caring and godly atmosphere for the Son of God to grow in. Mary was wise and raised Jesus accordingly and in the end she would make the ultimate heart wrenching sacrifice never done in history. Through it all, she was honorable and everyone could attest to that. (Luke 1:26-45 )
Now that is an example of the heart of a real mother. The rest of us might fall short here and there as we struggle and sacrificially fill that role of motherhood both physically, spiritually or lovingly the best we know how. But let it be known that just birthing a child does not necessarily make you a mother, because some birthed and threw the child in the dumpster. Some birthed and incessantly abused, rejected and hurt. (I shudder to think of it). While some birthed for completely selfish reasons e.g to trap a man or to vicariously fulfill a life long dream through another soul.
Motherhood stems from the heart, and the foremost element of its composite is irreversible SACRIFICE. And some very kind women were mothers long before they gave birth physically.
To every ‘mother’ out there, have a; HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!!! Because I know I will.
