The tie which links mother & child is of such pure and immaculate strength as to be never violated.Washington Irving

A wise man shared with me something very profound...
‘Once you have a child, you discover a love that you could never have possibly imagined existed”.

I’ve been reading stories on pregnancy, giving birth and parenthood and most of these literatures say the same thing. There is no love equal to the unconditional, absolute and everlasting love of a parent to a child. Most of these stories tell me that from the moment you lay eyes on your newborn child, you experience this Supreme Love.

My child isn’t born yet, but I think I already have an idea of what this Supreme Love is all about.

A long time ago, I wrote about how wonderful it is to feel my baby moving around in my belly. People, that is an understatement.
The feeling of having a child moving in my belly is The Most Wonderful Feeling in the Universe. It’s what makes me proud and so very grateful to be a woman.
No matter what men do, this is something they can’t possibly feel.
The beauty of a baby in their womb (okay, a big part of the problem lies in the fact that men don’t HAVE wombs).

Women's Liberation is just a lot of foolishness. It's the men who are discriminated against. They can't bear children. And no one's likely to do anything about that.
Golda Meir

Having my baby tumbling around in my belly is a constant reminder to me that I’m never alone. I’d be sitting in a very somber meeting at the office and my baby gives me a solid kick – and I’d smile a secret smile. I’d be stuck in a vicious traffic jam and start feeling stirrings of grumpiness when the baby in my belly slowly stretches and every single ounce of moodiness just evaporates as I lay my hand on my belly to feel him move. I’d be lying in bed alone, totally bored and sulky, when he starts doing the samba in there and I’d giggle as I watch the rise and fall of my bulbous belly (yes, I do know how to giggle).

And every single time he makes his presence known, my whole entire being is awashed with a strange combination of tender warmth and intense compassion that I can only describe as ‘The Supreme Love’.

Knowing that there is a human life residing in my womb makes me extra-extra-extra careful in conducting myself in everyday life.
I’m more cautious in crossing roads, more aware of potholes and uncovered drains on the sidewalk. I’m more alert to suspicious looking characters. I’m more watchful of steel poles that poke out from construction sites. My mind keeps repeating ‘Please, if I’m gonna get hurt, make sure it’s just me and nothing happens to the baby’.
I wish I could take out insurance on my tummy.

I am fiercely protective of this baby in me.
If I find myself in a crowd, and some bastard accidentally elbows my abdomen, I actually find myself vilifying him with curses and a ‘drop-dead-creep’ glare.
If I’m in the lift and a crowd starts to fill it, I’ll immediately place my bag in front of my belly and ward off any accidental touching.

I was in Tesco a few weeks back and this little girl was haphazardly playing with a shopping cart. I kept my eyes on her, making sure she was at least 10 feet away from me and my precious womb-cargo. I kept glowering at her parents (get your kid under control, will you!).
As luck would have it, that silly little girl pushed her cart towards me and as the damn thing sped towards me, everything went slow-mo, like a bad action movie.
My eyes widened, my lips closed in a tight grimace, my hands dropped the package of waffles and in a flash, I swirled around with my shirt flapping, like Keanu Reeves in The Matrix.
Instead of hitting my tummy, the cart banged against my well-padded butt.
Of course, the girl and her parents were not spared from my tight-lipped rebuke.
That’s one family that will never be going to Tesco Ampang ever again.

Will I be a protective mother to my son?
Yes. And I believe the answer is true for all mothers.
How can we NOT be protective over this precious gift that God has bestowed on us?
How can we NOT be protective over this beautiful child that is the manifestation of our love with our darling husband?
How can we NOT be protective of our child?

I am honestly excited about greeting my child into the world.
I can’t wait to hold him, hug him, kiss him and devote my life to him.
But I’m also aware that once he’s out of my womb, I am no longer his sole protector.
I have to share him.
While he’s in my belly, he’s all mine. His thumps and bumps are all mine unless I decide to share the experience with others. And even then, they can only feel him from the outside. He’s in ME and he’s MINE.
When I give birth to him, and he’s out here in this world, others can hold him...and hug him...and kiss him...and care for him.
I’ll miss having him in my tummy and feeling his activities in there.
I’m human enough to admit that initially, I loathed the idea of sharing him.

But I’ve come to realize something.
It’s a big, bad world out here.
And my son’s gonna need all the protection he can get.
And who else can give him that other than the ones who love him.

I’m glad he has his Daddy, his grandparents and his many uncles and aunties (and assorted family members) who will all be his guardian-angels-on-earth.
To lend a hand to his Mommy in keeping him safe and happy.

They may not share The Supreme Love that his Daddy and I have for him, but they’ll love him anyway.

And my son deserves all the love in the world.

There is nothing to suggest that mothering cannot be shared by several people.
H. R. Schaffer, O Magazine, May 2003