A Mother's Story

by Avril Arthurs, Belize 

I have always dreamt about being a mother. I can recall that when I as a child, my older sister would often say that she did not want kids, and my response would be: “Have them and give them to me!” Just the thought of life and children brought joy to my life. I knew that due to our economic standards here in Belize, it would be difficult for me to have the number of children my heart desired, so I decided to join the teaching profession. My saying was often, “If I can’t have them, then I can teach them.” It is not an easy profession, but it is one that I enjoy doing on a daily basis.

One year after joining the teaching profession, I was being visited by a guy, whom I found very attractive. I prayed for God’s will to be done, to bring us together. Two year later, on March 26, 2005, we exchanged our vows in front of our parents and everyone else. We did not have much, but for me, love was all we needed. 

I knew that one day I wanted to be a mother, but my song would always be that I would wait until five years after marriage. Well, it was a little after five months when I found out that I was pregnant. On December 23, 2005, I found out that I was six weeks pregnant. I felt overjoyed to know that I was going to bring an innocent being into this world that I can call my own to love and cherish. Every day I would caress my stomach, even though it was not showing. I started wearing maternity clothes because I was so excited. What was weird was that even though no tummy was showing as yet, but I knew that he was there.

Everyone was so excited. This was going to be my parents' first grand baby, as well my in-law’s first. (My husband was an only child.) I was spoiled, which, to be honest, was my favorite part. I got anything I wanted just because I was pregnant. 

My mom had all girls, with the exception of my adopted brother, so my sisters all wanted a nephew. They wanted more males in the family. Every time people would tell them that it was a girl, they would get upset. For me it did not matter -  I just wanted a healthy baby. There were times indeed, when I was uncertain and would say I want a girl or I want a boy, but in the end it did not matter.

My baby was a very active baby throughout my pregnancy, so the day I did not feel him moving, I knew that the time had come to deliver. I was so excited! I went to my mom that morning and I told her that I was in labor. My mom did not believe me, so she took me to a friend who was a nurse. When the nurse checked me, she said that I was already at three centimeters and that they must take me to the hospital right then. I was so excited that upon arrival at the hospital at 5 pm, I was grinning. This was strange to the nurses; one even asked what was wrong with me! When they told her that I was in labor, she argued that I was not. The thought of having a baby helped me to overlook the pain. At 7:35 pm, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

The start of motherhood was here! I couldn’t wait for him to cry. I watched in the maternity ward as the other babies cried and their mothers would breast feed them, but my baby just slept. I stared at him all night, and around 3 a.m. I saw him move his finger. So I grabbed him and tried to feed him. I felt sorry after that, because whenever he started to cry I would need to feed him, and I was not given much of a break to sleep.

Being a first time mother, everything got me excited. Once I thought I heard him cough and I started to cry, telling my husband to take us to the hospital. He took me to my mom who anxiously asked what the problem was. I told her that the baby coughed. She told me that nothing was wrong with my baby, but so that I would stop crying, she would monitor him. If he coughed, we would take him to the doctor. I learned that day that my baby did not cough; instead, he only gurgled on his spit. Everyone in my family still jokes about this today.

This was my baby, and as every good mother, I only wanted what was best for him. So yes, at times I spent unnecessary money to take him to see doctors, only to find out on many occasions that I had a healthy baby boy. One doctor even told us that our baby had the weight and height of kids older than he was.

My son became my pride and joy. Whenever I had problems in my marriage, I would look at him and thank God, because his presence made me overlook my circumstances. Instead of being sorrowful, I gave thanks for my blessings. Wherever you would see me, my son was there. We would go to church, weddings, graduations, etc. When I was asked to be the female dean at summer camp, everyone knew that I had only one condition - my son must go with me.

We created a bond that was inseparable. So inseparable that people are concern about what would happen to the other one if something happens to either of us.

On September 21, 2012, I was woken by my parents, with the most tragic news any wife had to hear. My husband had died in a car accident. Hearing this horrible news, I was unable to contain myself. I did not expect that at the age of twenty-nine to be a widow with a six year old son. There were so many unanswered questions. Why me? What about my son? How will this affect him? Growing up, I had both my mom and dad, and I had wanted the same for my son. What will I do now? Will I be able to face life daily? But due to the prayers of my family and church family, God gave me the strength to carry on. It is still hard at times, because when I look at my son I see a little of his dad and I wonder what is going through his little mind.

Every day I prayed to God for strength to face the new day. Nothing anyone would say could have taken away the pain I was facing. I would just glance on my son and start to cry because as a mother, I wanted him to have his father in his life.  For some reason, though, my son would not cry. I was constantly crying, and he would wipe my tears and say, “Mommy please stop crying. I am not crying so you should not cry.” People thought that he did not understand, that he was not registering that he will never see his dad again. But though talking with him, they realized he was fully aware of everything. When asked why he did not cry, he would say that he does not want his mommy to cry. He wanted to be strong for me, to be my little man. People spoke to him and told him that it was ok to cry, but he refused. At this point, I felt like I was the baby and he was my little man. It was through him that I had to work on my emotions, and because of him and God, that I was able to continue my journey though life.

God blessed me with a son, even though it was not planned. When I think about it, if I had waited five years before having my child, my son would have been two when his father died. God had a plan and he knew why he blessed me with my son so early in marriage. My son is a part of the reason I can hold my head high and give God thanks daily for his many blessings, despite the circumstances. He is the reason I’m a mother today, and I would not have it any other way. I love my son, and he shows me daily just how much he loves me in return.