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Yes! I love my son but I have earned this feeling. I couldn't feel this love on the day he was born, because I was consumed by my own pain & discomfort.
Yes! I love my son but I have earned this feeling. I couldn’t feel this love on the day he was born, because I was consumed by my own pain & discomfort.
It was not easy for me to become a mother. My bosom was oozing milk after the very minute I delivered him but ‘motherly feelings’ didn’t touch me. I was frustrated by the very fact that people were smiling around me, and no-one had a thought that I was in pain.
I didn’t like feeding him. The first night with him was not less than a nightmare for me. After every two hours, he used to cry and I had to rock him in pain. The women and men of my family expected me to mother him like an expert mom. According to the people around me, the sleepless nights, the hungry stomach, painful stitches, never-ending menstruation, tasteless food, and hard chest was less painful in comparison to my crying child.
I needed someone to understand my pain. I needed someone who understood that by just giving birth I don’t become a mother. That someone was my MOM! My mom first hugged me and then Aarav. She cared for my sleep and rocked him many nights.
She quenched my thirst for love and attention. She fed me with food of my choice, and my sister filled my days and night with laughter, childhood talk & gossip. With all this TLC, I was slowly healing inside. They were not judgemental and didn’t advise me to do this or do that. My mom just modeled out how to become one.
One afternoon, I was reading a book and Aarav was sleeping beside me. He was one month old. He twisted and turned and gave a little cry. I bent towards him and stroked my nose on his cheeks. I didn’t know when I cuddled him and he slept again. My stitches were healed. My stomach was full. My pain was replaced with bubbles of love and excitement.
That day I opened his small fist and touched his small curled fingers. I smelled milk on his cheeks and the baby powder around his neck. His oily scalp with little hair and broad hairy forehead made me realise “Oh he needs massage with besan”. My mom who was standing near the door realized that I no more needed her…
From that day to this day – each day I just observe him growing, and fall in love with him all over again. Yes! I love my son and I have earned this feeling.
Image source: shutterstock
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UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
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