A Mother's Love

Thank God for parents! It was Mother's Day on Sunday. I was just thinking how precious parents really are. I remember when I had my son. I was fresh out of university and my parents had some high hopes. Dreams of me getting a graduate job and becoming a jet-setter (jet-setting between London and Nigeria doing business of some sort). My destiny had other plans.

When I first found out "officially" that I was pregnant, after telling my sisters I had to break the news to my mum. Which wasn't as frightening as I had imagined. I was a little scared (the thought of telling my dad on the other hand was a whole 'nother story!). I remember my mum was cooking in the kitchen. I just got back from work (although I had my own flat, home - where my family reside, was and always is home). I approached her as she was washing something in the sink. I said, "Mum, I have something to tell you". She looked at me and I knew straight away that she knew what I was about to say. You know, the way mothers just know everything. She said, "ehen, what is it?" in her not so thick Nigerian accent. To which I replied, "I'm pregnant." She tried to look angry, but I could see the smile creeping across her face. Which eased me to my very core. She stopped what she was doing and said, "You've just finished university, you've not even enjoyed your freedom yet. This isn't what I'd hoped for you, but nevertheless, I have be longing for a grandchild for a while now". I started to cry. She just looked at me and smiled. Then she hugged me.

My mum isn't much of a hugger. That's only one of a few times in my life (thus far) that I remember getting a real squeezer hug from my mummy.

Her next act was even more valiant than the first. When I think of it now, I'm amazed by her. You see my dad is a pastor. Which makes me a preacher's kid. So you can imagine what kind of judgement my predicament brought on our family. I was the pastor's daughter who was now an unwed mother. My dad wasn't pleased to say the least, but we'll talk about that another time. My mum was there for me through out my pregnancy and labour. Come to think of it, besides God, she was my only constant.

As tradition would have it we have what's known as The Naming Ceremony when baby is eight days old. This is the part that I had to take a step back and watch my mum in all her glory. She was magnificent. My son's naming ceremony was held in my parent's home with family, family friends, and members from my dad's church all present. On such an occassions you want to think that everyone is for you, but I guarantee you, there are people who just want to see you fall flat on your face. I'm not talking about myself personally in this instance, because although it was my son that was being named, my mum was the one on display amongst her peers. My mum held her head up so high. She held her grandson with such pride and she let it be known to all who were there - nay sayers and all, that this is my daughter and her son, and I am not ashamed!

So with that said, I really love and appreciate my mummy. She could have turned her back on me. She could have let it be known that she was ashamed of me for what I'd gone and done. Things could have been so different, coming from a Nigerian family and having a pastor for a dad. But my mum rose above what I think would be a "normal" reaction under such circumstances. My mum not only showed her maternal love, she displayed the love of Christ as far as I'm concerned. She showed me not only what a mother really is - loving and protective, she showed real Christianity too - unconditional love.

I love you Mummy. xxx