Lacrimi de mama
Cred ca odata ce devii mama inveti sa duci lacrimi de bucurie sau suspine. Si am aflat asta in cel mai minunat mod inca de cand eram insarcinata. Nu am plans atat de mult in toata viata mea. A fost o promisiune pe care mi-am facut-o in copilarie, pentru ca parea ca cea mai buna cale de a supravietui dramelor inutile ale copilariei. De multe ori mi-am reprimat lacrimile si am invatat sa stau in picioare si gasesc ca sunt bine si ca adult multumita promisiunii mele. Si da, la un moment dat ni se poate intampla oricaruia dintre noi sa plangem.
Primul moment cand am realizat vulnerabilitatea mea ca mama a fost cand eram cu copilul nou nascut in brate si s-a pornit un cutremur in plina noapte. De data asta nu mai era senzatia ca mi se parea mie din cauza lipsei de somn, caci troznea mobila din casa si se legana patul cu mine. Copilul sugea din biberon si eu ma gandeam ce as fi putut apuca mai repede ca sa putem fugi din casa. Locuim la un etaj superior, deci pana jos clar se oprea sau se darama blocul. Nu e nimic mai inspaimantator decat mintea unei mame care se gandeste ce are de luat de unde si cate brate ii trebuie pentru a apuca totul deodata si a iesi pe usa cu tot cu copil. Atunci am inceput sa plang prima data de cand nascusem. Nu plangeam ca era un pericol real. Cutremurul trecuse, copilul nici nu simtise, m-am abtinut sa nu plang cat timp se misca blocul, dar apoi, cand am pus copilul inapoi la somn, m-am pus pe plans. Nu m-a tinut mult ca deja aveam totul organizat in minte si il organizasem deja si pe sot. Din acea noapte am rucsacul pregatit cu necesarul copilului si cat sa putem supravietui oricum, oriunde pentru scurt timp. Acum copilul mananca orice si e ceva mai usor rucsacul, dar imaginati-va ca dupa episodul cutremur chiar si in iesirile la plimbare cu copilul sau pentru munca aveam rucsacul lui, rucsacul meu cu chestii si uneori si o geanta crossbody cu strictul necesar la indemana. Sunt acea persoana care isi imagineaza ca un rucsac de munte e fix ce imi trebuie. Arcul si sagetile mai lipsesc, va spun, ca sa ma duc si la vanatoare in orice plecare.
In fine, al doilea moment cand am plans incontrolabil a fostcand am urmarit la televizor cele 3 zile de exercitiu in caz de cutremur. Ca totul sa devina un fel de scenariu de groaza m-am uitat si la acel exercitiu stupid. Nu e stupid, stiu, dar totusi era singura stire din zilele alea. Si eu plangeam incontrolabil la o serie de exercitii facute atat de personal medical sau jurnalisti. Va dati seama ca acei oameni vorbeau despre scenarii ipotetice si eu plangeam de parca se petrecusera? Brusc devenisem constienta de responsabilitatea enorma pe care o am fata de copilul meu.
Am invatat sa plang de bucurie si de teama de cand el este parte din viata mea. De atunci incepi sa simti, sa traiesti, sa iubesti, sa fii. De atunci nazuiesc sa ma apuc sa scriu despre arta aceasta minunata de a trai si a iubi viata. Cand il vad crescand si dezvoltandu-se imi da mie atata emotie incat eu plang. Plang cand il vad cum creste. Plang de teama ca as putea esua in a-l proteja. Plang cand vad cum isi dezvolta tehnici de control asupra mea si ador sa il vad cum cucereste inca un munte imaginar. Astazi s-a urcat pe scaun si a cazut cu scaunul, dar a fost atat de fericit ca reusise cucerirea incat nu a contat durerea. Cand ne plimbam pe afara adora sa urce scari, unele sunt mai inalte, altele mai accesibile, si tinandu-ma de mana simte ca poate sa strabata orice obstacol. Abia atunci simt ca sunt extrem de importanta si ca lacrimile nu isi mai au locul. Care teama? Care frica? Ce inseamna asta? Eu trebuie sa il ajut pe el sa faca ce si-a propus. Eu sunt cea mai important fiinta pentru el. El depinde de mine. Nu am timp de lacrimi si plangosenii. O sa am timp la batranete sa plang. Acum trebuie doar sa tin manuta aceasta in mainile mele si totul se petrece de la sine. Lacrimile unei mame se sting mereu in privirea aceea inocenta si fericita.
A Mother’s Tears
I believe once you become a mother you learn to bear tears of joy or pain. And I have learned this in the most wonderful way since I got pregnant with my baby. I haven’t cried so much in my entire life. It was a personal promise I have made during my childhood as it seemed the best way to overcome childish dramas. Many times I have withheld my tears and I learned to stand up which worked very good for me in turning a decent grownup. And yes, at some point it could happen to any of us to cry. Once you become a mother you start to feel, to live, to love, to be. It was since then that I wished to start writing and sharing about this wonderful art of loving and living life.
First time I realised how extremely vulnerable I am as a mother, it was when I was holding my newborn baby in my arms and an earthquake started in the deep night. This time it was all real, not just my impression due to lack of sleep, as the furniture was making cracking noises and the bed was smoothly shaking me. The baby was calmly sucking up his bottle and I was thinking what was it I could grab on faster so we can run out of the house. We live on a higher floor, so by the time we would have reaches the ground floor the shaking would have stopped or the whole block of flats would be ruined. There is nothing more frightening than a mother’s mind when trying to figure out what to grab from where and how many tentacles she needs to grab them all at once and get out the door with the baby in her arms also. It was then that I started crying for the first time since I had the baby. I wasn’t crying for a real danger. The shaking had passed, the baby was fine, I stopped myself from crying while the earthquake was in progress, but then, after putting the baby back to sleep, I started to cry. It didn’t last long as I had the safety plan all in my mind and also my husband next to me. But after that episode, I had the baby’s backpack always ready with the minimum necessary to survive for a short period. Now the baby is eating anything and the backpack is lighter, but imagine that after the earthquake episode even for the simple baby walks or for work I had his backpack, my backpack with stuff and sometimes even a cross body bag with the minimum necessary stuff to come in handy. I am that person that imagines a mountain backpack is just the right thing for a bag. The bow and arrows are missing, I am telling you, to go hunting directly.
Anyway, the second moment I was crying, this time uncontrollably, was when watching from home the emergency earthquake exercise which lasted three days. For everything to be as dark as possible in the exercise, I watched it all day. It’s silly, I know, but still, it was the only piece of news those days. And I was crying uncontrollably at a bunch of exercises made by both medical staff and journalists. Can you imagine those people were talking about hypothetical scripts and I was crying as if they were real? Suddenly I had become aware of the tremendous responsibility I had for my baby.
I learned to cry with joy and fear when I met my son. I cry as I watch him grow, as he is giving me the emotions. I cry as I see him getting bigger and bigger. I cry of fear that I may fail to protect him. I cry when I see he is developing control techniques over me and I love to see him conquer another imaginary peak. Today he went up the chair and fell, but he was so happy that he made it up there that the pain didn’t matter. When we walk outside he loves climbing stairs, some are higher, others are accessible, and holding my hand he feels he can overcome any obstacle. It is only then that I feel I am extremely important and tears are no longer coming out. What scare? Which fear? What is that? I need to help him to do what he has put his mind to. I am the most important being for him. He depends on me. We have no time for tears and crying. I will have enough time for that when being old. Now I just need to hold that little hand in my hand and all happens naturally. Tears of a mother die when seeing that innocent face happy.
