I wish there’s a manual for motherhood.
What should a newborn wear? What is bigkis? Why is it needed?
What should be their first solid food? How do I mash a carrot? Would he like it? When can he eat it?
What should I do if he cry without a sound for what seem like a loooooooooong time?
How do I make him burp? Until what month he should be breastfed? What if I can no longer breastfeed him due to work or school?
All these questions have answers already everywhere–tv, radio, magazines, internet, and even from our ever-reliable kumares.
But there are more questions that no books or any chika could answer.
How do I mold him to have good character? What will happen when he grows up?
What will happen when he face struggles, failures, and hardships?
Will he succeed? Should I help him? How do I help him without teaching him to be too dependent?
Will he take the same course I had in school? Will he pass? Will he be a good man? Will he have vices? What should I do to help him not to be distracted in life?
For the hardest job in the world, I wish there’s a manual for motherhood.
There goes my heart, vulnerable in this world. Open to violence, trials, and pain. But I couldn’t keep it in. I wouldn’t even if I could. That’s denying him of freedom and happiness he could have had. Real love is letting go if you have to.