I Love You To The Moon And Back

To The Moon And Back
To The Moon And Back
I love you to the Moon & Back - A blog on the trip down the memory lane and a never dying love for the child by Rekha Mittal Gupta
To The Moon And Back
To The Moon And Back

Coming from a joint family and an unimpeachable, immaculate witness of the ordeal my sisters-in-law were facing while raising the small demons, I was sure as hell of not bringing life to earth. An escapist you may say, a scaredy-cat who didn’t want additional responsibilities. Raising a child is not a child’s play.

I had elucidated my intentions to my fiancee during our courtship period, who himself wanted a single child only. He seemed more than happy about my intentions. Things seemed to be moving my way and I was elated.

Our love boat was sailing smoothly.

After a year or so, the child bug bit me. Going to relatives, functions, or events and watching infants, made me crave for my own. I discussed it with my husband who readily agreed. But, ovarian cysts played havoc with our dreams of becoming parents. After a lot of consultation and treatment, I conceived.

During the third month, blood oozed out with urine and I felt a piece of muscle hanging out of my vagina. I shrieked. My mother-in-law, who was cooking lunch, came running. When I told her about it, she immediately took me to the hospital. The doctor did an emergency ultrasound.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the sound of the baby’s beating heart. The re-test revealed that I had a cervical polyp which was not a threat.

Thereafter, there was no looking back. Soon after my delivery,  for reasons unknown, I felt detached from my son. I didn’t feel like hugging him, kissing him or loving him. Please don’t judge me but I discerned that I didn’t want him. I was in a pitiable state- the small being who was dependent on me was not welcome now. What a shame.

When those mini black innocent eyes looked at me with yearning, when those little fingers touched my face, when those tears stopped flowing as soon as he was in my arms.I felt something for him, but not much. On the sixth day of his birth, while changing his clothes, the clamp attached to the cut umbilical cord got accidentally pulled away and removed; my son wailed inconsolably.

That was the first time, I felt his pain, hugged him tightly, and tried to soothe him. A mother was born on the sixth day of my son’s birth. Gradually the unwanted unwelcome son became the apple of my eye.

Once during bathing, some soap bubbles went in his throat and he started coughing incessantly, I became furious and took my child away from the midwife and thereafter never allowed her near my son. I know that was an accident, but, now I was becoming an overprotective and caring mother. A mother who would stand in between her son and hurdles was born.

Eternal love was born.

A love where I  feel the pain if he gets hurt.

A love where my heart weeps seeing his tears.

A love where telepathy is stronger than spoken words.

A love where my day begins with him and ends with him.


Years flew by sluggish and uneventful

Oodles of love you bestowed and rendered our lives full

Unlocked the door of prosperity and delight

Made our lives joyful, my dearest sunshine bright

Angelic is your presence, you spread smile on every face

Kindred spirits we are, thanks for choosing us of all people and place

Elysian voice of yours is music to our ears

Magnetic is your charm, you have wiped out our lives’ tears

You are a God sent angel, we love you very much

Hypnotic are your eyes, we get caged in them as in hutch

Enamoured we are by you and your enchanting grandiloquence

Abundance of merriment you have filled with your innocence

Refreshing are the mornings and eventful are the days

Thankful we are and will remain to Almighty always

Serendipitous was your arrival when we had lost all hope

Mellifluous heartbeat gave us joy when we heard through a fetoscope

Illuminated our lives you have, my darling child

Life that was gloomy you turned it beguiled

Ecstatic so much  we are

you have filled our happiness jar.

-Rekha Mittal Gupta

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