Read an Excerpt
Connections
Ways we bond with each other and the world
1
I promise to always remember that you are my gift from God.
One morning, I was going for a walk along the ocean when I had a beautiful sensation that something was alive in me. I giggled as I imagined telling my husband, Sumant, that we were going to have a baby.
And then a wave of emotion swept over me. I felt a strong and vibrant presence at the very essence of my soul. In that moment, I felt Daddy, my dearest grandfather, in my heart. Daddy had passed away three months earlier, but I felt his spirit bless his first great-grandchild in that moment by the water.
Daddy once told me that the following poem by Jalal-al-Din Rumi always reminded him of how he felt about his grandchildren. As I embark upon my own journey as a parent, it resounds even more with the emotion I have always had about becoming a mother and discovering the magic of my children.
The Alchemy of Love
By Jalal-al-Din Rumi
You come to us
From another world
From beyond the stars
And void of space.
Transcendent, Pure,
Of unimaginable beauty,
Bringing with you
The essence of love
You transform all
Who are touched by you.
Mundane concerns,
Troubles and sorrows
Dissolve in your presence,
Bringing joy
To ruler and ruled
To peasant and king
You bewilder us
With your grace.
All evils
Transform into
Goodness.
You are the master alchemist.
You light the fire of love
In earth and sky
In heart and soul
Of every being.
Through your loving
Existence and nonexistence merge.
All opposites unite.
All that is profane
Becomes sacred again.
2
I promise to always cherish the moment you came into the world.
About six weeks before Leela, our second child, was due, it suddenly dawned on me that she would be in my arms very soon. I tried to remember how I felt when I was at this stage with Tara, but the emotions were quite different this time. There was less anxiety about the unknown and more excitement about all the joys and treasured moments that were yet to come. There was also nostalgia already because I knew that Leela's infancy would pass before our eyes in a flicker of a moment.
In the middle of the night, I'd lie awake as she moved inside of me. The miracle of being so intimate with this other being is indeed one of the most spiritual experiences I have ever had. I remembered watching Tara after she was born and recognizing her movements from those I had felt inside of me. I envisioned the familiarity I would soon observe when Leela was in my arms.
With my first pregnancy, I got lists of what I needed from friends and only imagined how I might use those things on Tara. It was such a joy and many times a struggle, to discover the little secrets of caring for my baby. For Leela, those utilitarian items--such as washcloths and nail clippers--would have so much meaning. My heart would flutter with anticipation, joy, and nostalgia once again.
I replayed the challenges that I had with Tara--the sleepless, exhausting nights; the struggles with breastfeeding; and the questioning and trying to understand why she was crying--but they all faded into the background as I remembered those breathless moments of gawking at her in utter amazement.
I thought about what it would feel like to have another baby in my arms. I stroked my belly and hummed quietly to myself, focusing all my loving energy to little Leela's burgeoning soul. I thought about what she would look like, how she would smell, and how she would feel.
What a wonderful and magical journey awaited us! I could not wait to welcome her into our world.
Reflection
THINK ABOUT THE MOMENT you realized you were pregnant. What was your first thought? Did you have a vision of your baby? How has this vision changed as your pregnancy has progressed or your baby has grown?
3
I promise to help you know that we are always together.
There will be times when you are scared, lonely, and sad and when I will not be there to hold you. I will not be able to pat you back to sleep, to wipe away your tears, to sing you a song, and to give you little kisses to make you smile again.
There will be times when you may fall and hurt yourself and I cannot kiss away your wound and make it all better.
There will be times when someone may say something that hurts you, and I am not there to tell you that their judgments reflect their own insecurities.
And there will be moments when I will not be able to sense your needs just by looking at you or hearing the tone of your cry.
But know that you will never be alone and that I will always be there for you. When you need me and I am physically not there, put your attention on your heart, and you will feel my presence. You will remember then. You will feel the warmth of my embrace, you will hear the song of my voice, and you will know that I love you.
We are bonded now forever, and never again will we find ourselves truly alone.
4
I promise to keep an open heart and mind as our relationship changes and evolves.
When I first met Sumant, we had a thrilling courting period. There was an instant connection, and I would wake up every morning just waiting for his call or a chance to see him.
Our first year of marriage, like most, faced many challenges, confrontations, frustrations, and questioning. But it was also a time of getting to know each other more intimately and building a more solid base for our relationship. It was a time when we were enamored with love and with each other, and the magic of it all made the challenges much easier.
Over the next five years, our lives changed dramatically as we moved from India to the United States, returned to business school, started our professional careers, and really began to live our life together. Our puppy love had evolved into the deepest of friendships and respect, and we both pushed each other to achieve our individual and our shared dreams.
Having children has taken our relationship to an entirely new level. We share a bond that is sacred; we have created new life, new beings together. We feel older, more responsible, and more serious about our lives and each other. We look at these miracles, our children, whom we have created together. They are a symbol of our love, totally dependent on us and trusting of us. I have fallen in love with Sumant over and over again as I watch him be a father.
I look at other relationships in my life, and I appreciate how they have evolved over time. My parents, who once were my sole caretakers, are now my close friends. I watch them interact with their grandchildren and see how they continue to grow as individuals and as a couple. My brother has shifted from being the often annoying but lovable younger sibling to my dear friend and creative and professional collaborator. With friends, some relationships have evolved as our lives have changed, while others remain special because of history and memorable times together.
And now, I begin a new journey of building relationships with my children. These, too, I know, will change with the years, and we will face many joyous moments combined with tense ones. But it is a journey I will cherish at every turn, because it will be the most precious journey in my lifetime.
5
I promise to trust my own instincts when caring for you.
When Tara was born, I wanted to hold her all the time. I loved her warmth, her smell, watching her expressions, and just feeling her in my arms. When she was not in my arms and started crying, I would pick her up in an instant to stroke, kiss, and comfort her. I could not bear to hear her cry. People would tell me that I was fondling her too much and that she would get spoiled. They said it was good for her lungs to cry and for her to get more independent. I could not relate to what they were saying. Why would I not want to spoil my child? Why would I want to let her cry and learn to feel alone?
As the months passed, Tara continued to stay close to me at all times. She went through phases of extreme stranger anxiety. When Tara cried, people would tell me to let her deal with the fear rather than pick her up and calm her. They said I would exhaust myself and that Tara would not learn to deal with others. But again I could not relate to their advice. Tara's fear was real, and she found comfort in my arms. I wanted her to know that I was next to her, guiding her, and helping her discover the world.
Tara began sleeping with Sumant and I when she was six months old, after a trip to India where she shared a bed with us. When we returned and Tara refused to sleep in her crib, people would tell us that if we let her cry it out she would adjust quickly. I am sure she would have, but neither of us could tolerate letting her cry it out. More important, we loved having Tara in our bed. Her warm body, her soft breathing, her baby smell, her movements--all these gave us such a feeling of love and comfort. Sumant and I could not imagine sleeping without her. But again, people continued to warn us that we would never get her out of our bed and we would have to force her to do it. Again, I questioned their words. Why would I want to force her? She felt secure being with us. We would be lost without her, and surely soon enough she would want to sleep by herself. Her presence with us was one of the most special and warm times in our lives. We could only treasure it.
Tara is now almost two-and-a-half years old, and she is confident, secure, and happy. Already she hardly lets me hold and cuddle her anymore because she is too busy running around and playing with her toys and friends. She is no longer fearful of strangers, but curious to talk and learn from people. Tara still sleeps with us, but every once in a while, she will tell me that she wants to go to sleep in her room in her bed. On those nights, I have to hold back from telling her no, because I would so much prefer that she sleep with us.
People continue to give me advice and tell me that I am doing something wrong. I listen politely, but I know that if I follow my heart, I am building bonds between ourselves and the world so that we will both be happy and secure.
Reflection
THINK ABOUT A LESSON or truth you have always needed to learn that your baby may be able to teach you as no one else ever could.
6
I promise to have a conversation with you that will last a lifetime.
I began to talk to Tara the moment I knew I was pregnant. I did not know if she could hear me, but I sensed that my loving thoughts would nourish her embryo and let her know that she was treasured.
When I saw or heard something beautiful, I would gently pat my stomach, wanting somehow to share my joy with her. When I was alone in the house, I would tell her about what was going on or what I was feeling. I would hum to her when I went for a walk or choose some of my favorite poetry to read to her before we went to sleep. I would make Sumant, who is very self- conscious about these sorts of things, talk to her as well. He would do so awkwardly, but somehow I made him do it nonetheless. At times, I felt quite silly about the extent I went to communicate with this little fetus inside of me, but for me, it was a way to bond with my baby who still seemed like a concept at times. It was a way in which I could introduce and welcome Tara to our lives.
When Tara was born, she recognized our voices. She had heard our chatter and humming and our whispers about how much we loved her. And when Tara was out in the world in our arms, we just continued the dialogue we had been having all along.
Tara and I talk constantly; my two-year-old daughter is a little chatterbox who needs to comment on everything that is going on around us. A friend of mine once observed that I talk to her as I would talk to a girlfriend, rather than to a little toddler. I think this has just become our rhythm of communication. I want to share my feelings and thoughts with Tara, and in turn, she responds. I am never lonely when Tara is with me because we are used to sharing our thoughts with each other.
When I was pregnant again, I started a dialogue with Leela that included Tara, as well. We read Leela books together, and we discussed how all of our lives would change when she arrived. Tara would pat my belly and talk to her little sister, telling her stories about her family, friends, toys, and favorite television shows. Both Tara and I would coax Sumant to talk to Leela, and he could not deny us this simple pleasure.
It is so special to know that my daughters--Tara and Leela--are now my lifelong partners and friends, who I will always be able to talk to and share my joys and sorrows with. As parents, if we talk with our children from the very beginning, we can build a bond and a conversation that will last a lifetime.
Reflection
WRITE DOWN A PROMISE about how you would like to connect with your baby-- physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
7
I promise to foster your bond with the generations before and after you.
When my father was young, he and his little brother were the closest friends. Mimicking the mythological stories of the classic Indian text, the Ramayana, they were often referred to as Ram and Lakshman, who represented quintessentially loyal brothers.
One day, when they were about twelve and ten years old, my father and his brother went to the market with pocket money that they had been saving for weeks and bought a BB gun. They knew that their parents would be angry over the purchase, and they reveled in the secrecy of the whole transaction. They went to the park and began target practice. Feeling very grand about their adventure, they decided that one brother would stand under a tree with an apple on his head, and the other would try to shoot the apple off his head. My father volunteered to stand in position first, while my uncle took the first shot.
