Several studies have shown that women worry over things more than men do. We go to great lengths to ensure we’re doing things the way we love to do them, and we complain when it’s not done the way we want after requesting someone to help us with it.

However, the worries of a great many women cannot be compared to that of a mother. Whichever stage of life the child is, from infant to toddler to teen and then adult. She worries about her child, gets sleepless nights over her child’s cranky moments. A mother worries about being the best mother her child could have, she’s worried whether she’s giving the child
the attention needed, or simply whether the child has had enough to eat. Students worry, they worry about their grades, classes, assignments, tests, exams etc. And a whole lot of unnecessary stuffs, like trending clothes, shoes, bags accessories, parties, etc.

So I worry. As a mother on one hand, and as a student on the other. I worry about anything and everything. Despite the fact that I have my mother to take care of my baby. I worry most on the fact that I would not be there to hold him as much as I would love to, watch him begin crawling, take his first step, have his first jump and some other milestones he’s yet to
cross. But I console myself there’ll still be a bunch left for me to witness him cross.

We have finally resumed school and lectures have started fully. I must confess, it hasn’t been easy, although no one promised me it would be. Even with all my psychological preparation towards what was to come, promising myself I can do it and I will, I find myself still wondering if I’ve been true to myself.

I’ve had to place my baby on a feeding schedule, and he is now coping well with his new feeding pattern which involves, formula during the day and breastfeeding all through the night. I’m able to live with this pattern without being guilt-burdened, as I imagine myself as a working mother who has to earn something to support the family with, so I’ve come to peace
with the schedule deep inside my concerned heart.

I remember myself as a national diploma undergraduate, with my first baby just a year old. I would lock away home and baby worries in a safe somewhere in my heart as soon as I get to the school gate, and unlock it to bring it back to surface as soon as I’m out of the school gate and on my way home.

Now, I feel like I’m having a deja vu, or simply replaying old memories. However, I believe the realization of this being an entirely new memory would soon hit me hard, as I’m contemplating moving into the school hostel,
for more reasons than one. Reasons I’ll be justifying in the next episode.

Don’t forget to send your contributions; personal experience, suggestions
and opinions to maryamthawbaan@gmail.com

Facebook Comments

Comments are closed.