By: Norberto Betita
As the world celebrates Mother’s Day which on this particular year is on the 11th of May 2014, I am brought back to the memories when my first child, Hazel was born on April 25 1975, delivered by my wife at the humble home of my parents-in-law while she lay flat on the wooden floor with only a native “buri” mat as protection and a few fine bed sheets as covering. The child was delivered by a “Kumadruna”, a trained midwife without my presence and without the benefit of a Doctor’s care or some modern medications. I was then working in an island and the only available contact was a single side band radio through the liaison office of the company based in the mainland city. When I came home the day after delivery, I found her lying on the floor inside our bedroom weak, pale and with swelling facial countenance attendant to her painful labor. Yet I saw sparkling radiance in her sweet smile formed out of so much joy and gladness as she proudly presented to me our first child. Such was her first episode of a motherhood experience in a condition of abject poverty.
After I graduated from college in 1979, she again got pregnant. This time we together made sure that she will have proper prenatal care by a qualified Doctor. The nine months of pregnancy goes accordingly fine. However, the day of her delivery was never devoid of trials. Her Doctor was out of the country. I brought her to a government hospital where she experienced dry and painful labor. My physical energy seemed exhausted just watching her bore the incomprehensible pains of impending childbirth. But my dear wife appeared just ever willing to bear such an unfathomable burden of pain and sleepless hours. Then a frantic fear came over me as I heard the news that the young mother next to my wife’s hospital bed died after delivery. I had prayed for my wife and the child’s safety before we went to the hospital. Yet my faith seemed to waiver as my thoughts were carried to an awful imagination of the possibility for the same kind of emergency, especially that my wife have been already labouring for more than twenty four hours without the benefit of the most needed rest.
Then the hour of delivery came. “I could not hold it any longer,” she said. We immediately proceeded to the delivery room only to find that the only doctor on duty was inside the operating room performing surgery. The only available personnel were two midwifery-student-trainees. My wife no longer could wait for the Doctor. She climbed on the delivery bed and with undaunted courage called on the student-trainees to watch over her. I could not imagine my fears and the anxieties of those inexperienced students as we work together to have the child delivered. When the child finally came out of the womb I could see the trembling hands of one student as she almost mistakenly cut the wrong end of the umbilicus cord while her classmate was holding the baby. That was on the early dawn of June 19, 1980, when my son, Robert Sherwin was born a little over five years since my wife’s first encounter with childbirth. Those two young women---midwifery-student-trainees were to me angels sent from God to help care for my wife and child until a qualified doctor was available.
That was my first experience being with my wife at childbirth and the only time when I had physically witnessed child delivery. I have to be there because there are no other qualified medical professional to take care of my wife and child. It was there that I witnessed how true the words that were given to Eve by God: “…I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children…” (Genesis 3:16). Yet despite immense suffering and pain there gleams the exceptional beauty of a smile uninterrupted even by the ascribed physical agony and discomfort. The glory and majesty of the divinely appointed role of motherhood came ever aglow as the healthy son was shown and allowed a deep and profound maternal embrace.
After an interval of four years, on July 11, 1984, our third child, Lori Lynne was born. Another four years later, on July 26, 1988, again my dearest wife gave birth to our fourth child, Kathleen Beth. Both were born normally and without much difficulty. Her fifth conception was lost by early miscarriage.
Then unexpectedly at age 40 she again conceived. That was to us a defining moment, kind of a crossroads considering that at such an age pregnancy is no longer recommended. The conception created added risk and danger to the mother as well as the child. True to our fears, in later months she was diagnosed of a prospective eclamptic pregnancy. Her high blood pressure was above normal although not at the level of more advanced risk. When she felt labor pains I told her that we immediately go to the hospital, but she decided to wait until the pains became more successive. As we finally checked-in we were advised to have some walk on the hospital aisles. While holding my arm she complained that she felt like flying. We walked back to her bed and just as she was seated she got a stroke. Her mouth had to be opened with a spoon by the nurse. My fears magnified as she was immediately carried to the operating room. The child had to be delivered by Caesarean Section.
Those several restless hours of waiting---sitting on a bench right beside the door of the operating room filled my thoughts with so many “what ifs”. The long hours seemed to run within my weary heart quiet feelings of undisclosed sadness. The silence of each personnel coming out of the emergency room gave the impression that something more serious was happening. However, my heart thumped with joy as the nurse finally announced that the operation was successful and both the mother and child were fine. Notwithstanding the life to death encounter my dearest wife still gently exhibited an aura of wondrous ecstasy and exultation with the child clasped by her loving embrace. That happened on the 23rd day of November 1990, when our lastborn, Shauna Megan was given birth by caesarean. But our confidence fell short when after three days the wound did not close and she was brought back to the emergency room for a follow-up minor surgery---suture repair.
In 1999 she volunteered to mother a five months baby girl,
Angelica and cared for her as her own daughter. It was fifteen years since and the baby girl we fostered is
now a young woman.
However, during our forty years of parental partnership I realized that the true role of motherhood was never amply accomplished in those death defying and life threatening experiences of childbearing. The divinely bestowed motherhood responsibilities which I witnessed performed by my most dedicated wife, were done daily in the confines of home and family. These include the day-to-day sleepless nights of breastfeeding and nursing the infants; preparing and arranging sleep mats for the little ones; daily early morning laundry for linen diapers (we don’t have disposable diapers during those times); everyday preparation for children’s lunches and snacks; sending to and picking up children from school; ironing clothes while children are at school; helping children in their school assignments and supporting them in their school activities; doing assigned chores in behalf of children while they are attending church activities; teaching children correct principles and values through daily scripture study and family home evenings; teaching them the value of daily prayer; motivating and encouraging each child to develop proper attitudes and habits for personal growth; bringing them to church each Sunday immediately starting the first Sabbath from their birth without fail; teaching them to walk; crying with them in times of difficult challenges and failures; “Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth an increase of love… ” (D & C 121:43).
These bits and pieces may seem just ordinary daily routines, but they create and accumulate invaluable treasures in the lives of our children which in due time can be withdrawn as they start to trudge the weary and most challenging highway towards their autonomous personal journey. These day-to-day odds and ends represent millions of hours of fostering, of caring, of loving, of nurturing children in righteousness.
But these are not the only good things that my wife is willing to do and sacrifice. She took the pains of living the confines of home to share in the responsibilities of providing when family resources fail. She took a permanent career and shared with me in my paternal responsibility of provider. She served in the Church uninterruptedly and did her assigned duties with diligence. Yet in such busy schedules she made it a point that her children are of paramount priority and overriding importance. I could not help therefore but feel an overarching obligation to likewise share in the role of motherhood—doing what my wife was doing.
Her words, whether as a speaker or in an ordinary Sunday school or Relief Society class, always contain this phrase: “Each child is a trust from God, thus we have the sacred responsibility to guide them back to Him.” Always her messages in conferences never missed inspirational quotes about motherhood and family life.
In one of the District Conference we attended, she said: “In number, I had 38 years of motherhood experience. Yet still I felt inadequate to speak about motherhood, for until today I felt I still have a lot to learn about my divine duty as a mother.”
Then she quoted part of the First Presidency Message in a message by Elder Boyd K. Packer
“Motherhood is near to divinity. It is the highest, holiest service to be assumed by mankind. It places her who honors its holy calling and service next to the angels.” (The First Presidency, message delivered to the “Saints in every land and clime” during the October 1942 general conference.)
Then she added, “As I read and pondered these words, I felt so honoured being a mother of five children, but somehow wondered whether I have truly rendered best my divine role and calling and have my place next to the angels. During those 39 years of marriage I do have the guilt of doing non-motherly work, leaving our children at the care of others, but of course not for gold or fame, for as a matter of fact, we are still poor and deprived even at this time. In our marital partnership, I have to assist my husband in meeting our family needs while he finishes his college degree and even a master’s degree in Business Administration for better employment opportunities.”
She also quoted J. Reuben Clark: “...the full glory of motherhood is not yet reached when her child comes forth into this world of trial. … She feeds not only, but clothes it. She cares for it by day and watches over it by night. … She gently leads its faltering steps, till it walks alone. …
“Thus to the full stature of manhood and womanhood, mother guides, … instructs, directs … the soul for which she built the earthly home, in its march onward to exaltation. God gives the soul its destiny, but mother leads it along the way.
“When the souls shall return to the presence of the Father of all, the worthy mothers will be there to welcome their worthy children. …” (Immortality and Eternal Life [Melchizedek Priesthood Course of Study, 1969–70], vol. 2, pp. 24–28.)
Now our five children have their own families except one. They are now experiencing their own challenges as father and mothers. Their journey to the future is still unknown. However, I am confident that if they will but try to follow the direction once taught by their mother, they will most assuredly find the secured path to their eternal destiny.
On this Mother’s Day celebration, I felt destitute of words that could most appropriately define my deepest feelings of gratitude, thus this most noble living tribute and encomium to the woman who had been divinely appointed mother to my five children.
