Mother blindness syndrome

Aparna took up a project last month. She wanted to make a scrap book of school memories, now that she is in Class X. She spent days going through piles of school report cards, photos, memorable and significant events since she began kindergarten. But she wanted to start with a baby picture, taken as soon as she entered this world. She found a cute picture of her tiny self bundled up and with a cap on her miniature head. Her face is swollen and red. One eye is half-open while the other one has puffy bags. Her skin seems to have red patches. "See how absolutely adorable picture you look", I exclaimed. "I look disgusting" she replied. "How can you love such an ugly baby?" she questioned. "All moms love their babies" I said. "Why?"

Why do mothers love their babies? A rhetorical question at best. When you give birth after a long pregnancy, the birth is the culmination of all the months of togetherness for mother and child who are seeing each other for the first time. After sharing the wonderful experience of labor and delivery, it marks the successful completion of a long journey undertaken and understood only by the duo. Both are exhausted. Not looking their best. But the first moments of snuggling together are unforgettable ones. I think mother nature conspires to put a little stardust into the eyes of the new moms so that all they can see is their perfect little baby - not the misshapen head or the swollen eyelids or the bald head. What you see is a perfectly formed little human, with ten finger and ten toes, a pair of eyes that look into your soul and a lusty pair of lungs to announce any displeasure. What is not to love?

Yesterday, when I told Aparna that she looks pretty, she said I must be suffering from "mother blindness syndrome" since many of her friends are truly pretty. I agree that there is something that makes many mothers blind to their children's flaws and they tend to cover them up. There are also instances where mothers are blind to their children's innate gifts and talents and choose to smother them under the weight of their own dreams. But motherhood seems accursed with a selective vision. The nine months of pregnancy are like a comically long blind date, there is intimacy between the two without having set eyes on each other. But the soul knows all, sees all. And the two are joined forever. Yes, there must a such a syndrome. One that does not make you frail, just vulnerable, a syndrome that does not weaken you but adds strength. My wish for my daughter is that she will also experience the wonder of this syndrome.