Novel & Cerita Short Stories Motherhood

“I’ve just, I’ve never had any women in my life to help guide me through this. I mean there’s plenty of nonsense online, but a billion women arguing with each other about what’s best and which experiences are accurate… it’s just not the same as hearing from someone you trust. Do you know much about your mother’s experience?” I find myself smiling, my mother’s beautiful face appearing in my head. “She used to tell me that story all the time. About how all the doctors were convinced I was going to be a runt, but I proved them wrong and ended up being one of the healthiest, strongest pups they’d even seen. Every time I doubted myself, or felt like a failure, she reminded me that nothing in life

“Mom, you don’t need to be so humble! “You raised me all these years. I’d be an ungrateful daughter if I allowed an outsider to offend you! “Between getting married and doing what’s right, which one do you think is more important to me?” Emerald’s heart skipped a beat, but she could not force a smile.

That reminded me that while motherhood was endless, it was also rewarding. Like when Orion started to crawl and explore his world, leaving a trail of toys and drool in his wake. Or when Luna started to write her own stories, filled with imagination and creativity. Those moments filled my heart with a sense of pride and joy that made the endlessness of motherhood seem less daunting.

“Which love?’ Myra asked her subconscious mind. The love that never got a chance to bloom. The love was never accepted and her mother simply left without demanding her chance to be his father’s wife. Her mother sacrificed her happiness just to make sure that her father’s family survive the humiliation in India. One thing was clear that her mother suppressed the entire story just to save his father, and the Royalty. After a certain time, she jumped into her dark sleep. Her body got exhausted due to crying. Her mother made her mature and strong but, at this time, she had to take a big decision. Things were never easy for her since her childhood. Single parenting was always tough. She now under

I approached my mother's bed, intending to return the novels to the bookshelf. My mother has always loved reading. She even collected many novels and children's story books. Mama often told me that she wanted to be a children's story writer. Even though mom gave up on her dream after my dad died. And Mama chose to focus on raising me. "Huh?" I furrowed my brows when I saw the plastic packages hanging and squeezing behind the bookshelf. My hand tried to reach the plastic. Although it was a little difficult, I finally managed to reach the plastic and peek inside.

I said and her eyebrows frowned. “Beautiful I understand but how powerful?” She asked. “You are caring a life inside of you, not everyone can do that. There is no one more powerful than a mother.” I said remembering the old days. I always used to think that I will someday have a big family of my own, a husband and 2 kids and I will give them the world. But slowly I started to lose confidence in myself. Become a mother is the greatest responsibility in the world, and I’m not ready for it…

that she told my mother that if she wanted, she could consider adoption. That we were wonderful, and our mother could give us up for adoption. She said it was an act of love. Giving your children to others was an act of love! That there were good people who could give us a better life. And it was the first time my mother showed emotion because until that day, she remained silent and only smiled at Dinah. But that day she spoke loudly and upset, telling her that she loved her children and would die before giving them away. We might be poor and suffer, but we were the reason for her to keep on living, and God would help her. She had faith, but give away her little ones? Never! And I guess, ma

I know I have said this before, but it was a genuine fear for me. But Bella wasn’t annoyed, instead she led me out of the toilet and into the room. she had me sit down on the heart couch beside the mirror and she sat on the bed opposite me. “Let me tell you a short story, El. There was a little girl born in a large family. They were well to do, and she had three elder brothers. Her brothers were doted on by her mother, but she the opposite. Her mother hated her with passion, some said because of her youth, some said because women were a liability. But that didn’t faze her. She made sure to be the best she could, and she gave birth to her own kids. And she loved them with her life, she was th

“Thanks…I guess. I hesitated to answer, scratching the back of my neck indecisively. — She will be a good mother, having the gift of storytelling will make her children rich in many ways other than just financially. - She said looking at me truly serious and honest so that it wouldn't make me even more awkward. It's not like I've thought about kids in a while. — I don't think I think about it exactly to that point, I can't have children, not genetically mine, adoption is a good point... but here and now I don't think I'm a woman prepared to be a mother, I'm impulsive and inconsequential too much all the time to break this addiction and crucify a little one with my mess. - I assumed touching

“I wish you safe delivery. Maddy, I saw the worry in her eyes. I had to tell her the story of my mother. I told her about how my mother waited for six years after marriage before she could conceive. Her eyes widened as I told her the story of my mother’s struggle to conceive. “That’s heartbreaking,” she said, her voice full of compassion. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like for your mother, waiting all those years.” I nodded, my throat tight. “It was really hard for her,” I said. “But she never gave up hope.” I told her about the day my mother finally found out she was pregnant and the joy that filled our home.