Thursday, June 19, 2008
A few days ago, a mother brought her baby to the clinic to borrow our weighing scale. Laying a blanket on top of the scale, she gently lowered her beautiful perfect baby, smiled at him and soothed him so that he would remain still. 4.3kg. Just 0.2kg less than what should have been according to the paediatrician. (Baby was supposed to gain 0.2kg per week.) Baby kept moving and Mother kept trying to get him to be still. Still, the little needle would settle at 4.3, the best reading that Mother and myself got. There was a worried expression on her face, and I could sense her fears and anxiety. It was a privilege to witness such love.
Tonight I realised that my own mother loves me with the same tender love, and worries for me with the same motherly fear.