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Saturday, May 12, 2012

Thank You Mom



I am lying in the middle of my parent’s enormous bed. My body is sweating profusely with fever, as curious hallucinations dance in front of my eyes. I am very young, but even at this early age I’m cognizant that I’m not well. My mother nervously paces around the bed, her eyes reflecting a solemn expression. It is then that I see tiny, cupid-like angels floating above me. Their faces are smiling at me, as they tug at the covers of my bed.  I look at my mother shyly and say, “Mommy, the angels are taking me away.” “NO, they are not!” my mother shouts. She picks me up out of bed, races to the bathroom, and places me into the cool water of the bath. My fever breaks, and shortly thereafter, she lays me into the freshly cleaned sheets of her bed.

This is one of my earliest memories; my mother caring for me at what must have been an extremely frightening time but what I remember most is that I felt completely and utterly safe. When I think back to my childhood, my mother’s healing nature was a constant. She was the one that mended my every wound. She was the one who watched over me. Her therapeutic touch and love were never outside of my reach. Her unlimited devotion gave me a sense of serenity as well as a profound feeling of security.

And yet my mother’s attentive ways do not wholly define her. She is tactless, unpredictable and unconventional to say the least. She seizes every opportunity to embarrass me. She is crass at the most inopportune times. She cannot be tamed. She is all of these things and more, but she is also my unremitting champion. My every dream is her dream. My every endeavor or aspiration receives her faithful support. She is always there standing beside me. She is always there encouraging me. She is there forever reminding me that I am safe.

This is my mother, she is not perfect, but she is exactly what I need. Someone who praises, heals, and defends me when I need it the most. In truth, this is what a mother should be: someone that doesn’t suffocate or stifle but instead reassures you, supports you against the odds, and whose very existence makes you feel protected.

In all of these years, I don’t know that I have ever told my mother how deeply I appreciate her, but this Mother’s day, I think I will.   

Embrace Your MOMentum

If you’d like to share your story, email us at info@devynbag.com

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Debunking the Motherhood Myth


Prior to having my children, I was frequently exposed to romantic images of motherhood. Whether portrayed through television, novel or fairytale, the starry-eyed descriptions were consistent; being a competent mother is innate. The perception that motherhood isn’t learned but rather naturally resides inside of every woman is a myth that has been perpetuated in our society.

In fact, motherhood has been idealistically cloaked for so long that it has become a modern day hurdle for many first-time mothers. The perception that new mothers instantly know how to sooth, breastfeed, bath, heal, and everything in between has undoubtedly left its stain on every mother that has been unable to live up to this naïve impression. I remember my deep humiliation when I realized days after my son’s birth that motherhood did not come naturally to me. My son had something akin to colic in the early days of infancy, and at the time, I had no idea how to remedy. I vividly recall someone telling me that as a mother you could tell the difference between your baby’s cries – there was a distinct cry for hunger, one for poopy diapers, and a different one for discomfort or pain. This statement left me paralyzed when I realized that I could not tell the differences in my son’s sobs, as all of his cries sounded equally distressed. My son would weep,and I would immediately change his diaper, feed him, rock him, walk him up and down the stairs (at least it was good exercise) as well as a million other experiments in search of relief until we were both completely exhausted. The fact that I could not decipher his cries or the problem, as clearly all other mothers were able, made me feel worse than incompetent. It made me feel negligent.

I remember a similar occurrence when, after two weeks of delaying my son’s first bath out of fear that I would accidentally drown him or otherwise, my mother-in-law advised me that newborn babies should be bathed in the sink. Again I had no idea, and I was embarrassed by my lack of knowledge. Once I tried this approach, I realized that it was much easier to hold a slippery infant over the sink as opposed to the bathtub.

There were countless other mothering skills that I developed through trial and error, but I did not discover them until I gave myself permission to shatter the myth. I started by being honest with those closest to me. I spoke to other mothers and asked about their experiences. I took advice from my family members (I didn’t always follow but I listened). I went to the pediatrician’s office with a list of questions, some of which were ridiculous in hindsight, but I needed to learn. I even attended a support group for mothers. Most importantly, I tried different tactics to see what worked best for my children.

Two kids and a lot of hard work later, I still have much to learn. This is the truth, and there is no shame in that. It turns out that competency in motherhood, just as competency in life, requires experience.

Embrace Your MOMentum

If you’d like to share your story, email us at info@devynbag.com