Sista Clinik

What will make a mother refuse to look, touch or breastfeed her own child when he or she is born? What will make a mother abandon her child? What will make a mother hate her child? What will make a mother give up her child for adoption? There are several reasons but today, I would like to address the reason called rape. Sarah had had many love proposals from her neighbor Paul, but she refused him. She loved her fiancé Ben who she couldn’t wait to marry and would never jeopardize their relationship for anything.  Paul was a rich guy who thought he was entitled to everything including the love of Sarah. He had to have her by all means necessary. So he tried several approaches—from trying to get her friends to speak to her, to romantic gestures, expensive gifts which she never accepted anyway.  She stood her ground and told him she was in love with another, and would be getting married soon. This might have been the final straw because Paul kidnapped Sarah on her way home from

Before I begin, I'd like to say this post is a response to last Thursday’s post. If you haven't read it yet, please do so here . I have a personal experience with the whole abortion dilemma, but not in the way you may think. I have never been pregnant, no. The woman in question was my mother. You see, many years ago my mother became pregnant. She was not married, and she was about to crash into her third decade in this world. So this so-quite-so-young woman became pregnant and the man in question told her the exact thing the man in the previous post told his woman; to get rid of it. Maybe not with the exact same word, but certainly with the same intent. Thankfully, for me, she refused and here I am today. You see my mother wanted a child. She wanted a child so much that the pregnancy became a blessing to her. So much that she refused to let the opinion of one man sway her. I may never know my real father, but apart from mild genetic curiosity, I don’t want to.

“A woman can endure all; every pain, every hurt, every bruise, but not one that she causes herself.”   I have decided to share this not because I want to tell my story, but because I want to heal even though that seems like too much to ask right now. I am not in the position to make demands. It is my only hope that someday, maybe, I will be able to forgive myself and move past this. A woman never understands motherhood until she becomes one , or shall I rephrase; a woman never understands motherhood until she experiences what it takes and means to be a mother. It isn’t just about bringing a child into this world; it is about bringing yourself into this world. You are tied by the breath of life to the child you bring forth.  The joys of a mother are that; like the cactus plant she has faced death and triumphed with life and for as long as she lives she will never experience anything as encouraging and comforting as her child’s first clutch of her thumb. It is not o