Mothers will always be micro-managers. Not because they consciously want to but because nature trains them to be like that by default.
As soon as she finds out there’s life inside her stomach, her curiosity starts. As if on cue, she now begins to move carefully, concern about the tiny creature growing inside her body.
Right after her first trip to the obstetrician, she now thinks of the crib, the nappies, the nursery, the blanket. Her thoughts about herself shift to the baby.
After hearing the baby’s heartbeats for the first time, worry replaces her curiosity.
Always wondering if her baby is fine and well. Always silently praying for her baby’s good health.
Her two hands are now forever holding her stomach, feeling the baby move. A moving baby is her assurance that the baby is healthy. When a mother doesn’t feel the baby move for several minutes she begins to panic.
The days before her delivery are the scariest thing. It’s something a mother has to deal with no matter how scared she is.
Her micromanaging shifts to a higher gear when the baby comes out. Feed her every minute, wipe the baby’s but, occasionally change the position of the baby’s head, change the lampin.
A mother is like an eagle keeping an eye on her baby like a microscope. She sees every tiny scratch, bites, dot, on the baby’s skin. She notices even one single strand of hair that is unruly. She counts every wink while the baby sleeps. She will spend hours chasing one fly who threatens to get near her baby.
