I had not been able to fully comprehend the saying of the Prophet Muhammad (SAW), “Paradise lies at the feet of your mother,” until I had children of my own. The sacredness of this saying is paramount for every Muslim, yet the full gravity of its meaning often remains unfathomable until one experiences it firsthand.
Human offspring are perhaps at their most weak and vulnerable at birth. It is the mother who nurtures such delicate beings into independent individuals. But the process is far more daunting and time-consuming than these words suggest. It is perhaps the effort, energy and hardships endured by a mother during this journey that elevate her stature to such extraordinary heights.
When I witnessed my wife bear and rear a child, it dawned upon me that the plight of women in the past must have been far more difficult, when the provisions and resources at their disposal were meagre and the overall conditions were marked by poverty and hardship. Our mothers may have endured even greater challenges, particularly in the Valley, where precarious times, shattered peace and disrupted public utilities during the 1990s made everyday life difficult for everyone.
It is in the present times, when there is an abundance of facilities and resources, that I found my wife’s pregnancy distressing to an extent that no man, however brave, could possibly endure in the same way. The conditions, right from the beginning, were so stressful that their impact radiated to everyone around her.
From the very beginning, hormonal changes in her body made it difficult for her to retain anything she ate. Most of the time, she would throw up whatever she consumed within minutes. At times, even the water she drank would not stay down. That stage was, by every measure, highly exasperating. It was frightening to see someone struggle even with the food and water necessary for human survival.
Added to this was the exhaustion that gradually crept in with the passing days and weeks. The waiting at the doctor’s clinic, along with repeated ultrasonographies and tests, often made the experience even more distressing. I believe it is perhaps only the thought of having her own child that keeps a woman going through such a daunting process.
As if this was not enough, she began experiencing severe itching over her limbs. The condition was diagnosed as intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy (ICP), making the situation more serious and fearsome. The condition causes bile acids to rise to unusually high levels and can pose a threat to the unborn child as well.
At this stage, the gynaecologist, besides prescribing medication, advised us to remain cautious, as the mother might have to undergo surgery anytime after the 36th week of pregnancy, depending on the prevailing circumstances. The situation eventually developed in such a way that she had to be hospitalised several weeks before the expected delivery after the baby’s movements inside the womb appeared to stop.
It was, of course, a horrifying experience for all of us when, at the dawn of July 24, she complained that she could no longer feel the baby moving. The hours until morning were long and exasperating, as we sought one piece of advice after another. The Almighty, however, was benevolent enough that the ultrasound showed the baby’s heartbeat to be present. It was reassuring, yet we remained apprehensive, for a year earlier, in a separate case, the family had faced a similar situation that had tragically resulted in the death of an infant inside the womb.
Murmuring prayers, we followed the gynaecologist all the way to Srinagar rather than wait for his scheduled arrival in Anantnag later in the evening, hoping to save a few hours of agony. An emergency operation was performed there, leading to the birth of a weak, preterm baby who was immediately admitted to the NICU for the next few days.
Here, too, the mother showed her determination. Despite having undergone surgery herself, she visited the NICU several times a day to feed the baby. She even refused to leave the hospital without him when his NICU stay extended beyond her own hospitalisation, as advised by the doctors.
Returning home brought no greater relief for her, as the baby had to be fed every two hours, day and night. She would set an alarm for each feed, even when she was deeply exhausted and her body needed rest more than anything else. What motivates a mother to go through all this exertion, often with such willingness and love, remains incomprehensible to other mortals.
The trial does not end in days or weeks. It continues for months and, in different forms, for years. To remain steadfast amid all these tribulations is what motherhood stands for.
Men may be strong and hardworking, but women are the epitome of devotion, dedication and passion. It is easy to toil hard and earn money, but it takes a great deal of endurance to remain committed to a cause whose rewards are not entirely one’s own and whose benefits are often intangible.
This altruism is what sets women apart before the Almighty. It is this extraordinary capacity for selfless love, endurance and sacrifice that has elevated mothers to the stature where Paradise has been placed beneath their feet. It is an honour both profound and well-deserved, for the sincerity of a mother’s love and the sacrifices she makes for her children remain unparalleled too.
(The Author is PG, Mass Communication & Journalism from MERC, University of Kashmir)