lucila soto

3 months after, for Bruno
How we start as rudimentary beings with not much but basic survival instincts and pure ego amazes and appalls me; it is also very difficult to like. At least well-brought-up folk were meant to dislike selfishness, intolerance and impatience. These are what a new born is all about.
A baby is a young-man’s job -a friend said- or a woman’s I should add, so I feel more tired than words can describe and lack of sleep is showing in a bad way.
But it is -just as I once read- at 4:30 in the morning while changing yet another soiled nappy -feeling all at once exhausted, completely bored and irremediably in love with this little screaming creature laying before me- that it dawns on me: my mother did this for me. For each of us (most of us? the lucky ones?) a mother, a father, a grandmother or some other caregiver did this for us; so in addition I become so grateful I feel like crying.
There is this unfathomable chain that goes back and around each generation, linking us and speaking of the universal word/concept love. No other thing than love can carry you to safe-heaven when confronted with the hard-boiled fact that is a baby and -as a wide and ever-growing list of songs and writings rightfully claim- it is love that will save the day.
There is no corniness in this statement -believe me! I know now I was not born a mother, but I sure am learning to become one. I’ll explain: I have no maternal instinct, not feeling in my gut guiding my every action regarding Bruno and I can’t wait -can’t wait- for him to have reasoning and consciousness enough so I can explain and he understands.
Mostly it is scientific approach of trail and error, thesis, etc that I use to solve and overcome the many problems Bruno presents.

It is also him who teaches and guides me every day to understand his needs and cares, some of them patiently and others with rage.
I also know I will not have another baby. The mere fact I have him is one I still haven’t completely made my peace with.
Then again there is no cynicism in that last part. Because there is also love-complete, love-unconditional, love-eternal. The kind you have never felt before and is only reserved to a child: no matter who he is and becomes nor what he does and will do, you will always love him.
So yeah, I love motherhood, I just don’t like it… yet.