Mother and child – an unbreakable bond

This Mother’s Day, Phillip Island's Min Beaumont ponders exactly what defines motherly love.

“Being the mother of two children, one home grown and one adopted, I can honestly say the instant mother bond and love for them both was equally powerful, in fact identical.

What I also know is it has nothing to do with blood connection or whether you carried that child.

There is no love like it, that powerful moment after giving birth, when you are handed your baby. It hit me with an emotional powerful force I had never experienced before. I know that does not happen for everyone but fortunately it did for me. I felt very lucky, as I carried my son while dealing with chronic illness, and my gratitude for what I had in my arms was bursting.

Nine years later we adopted our daughter from India, a totally different journey … a much harder or I should say different journey to motherhood.

We were scrutinised, tested, assessed and studied on every level imaginable to see whether I had genuine and sincere 'mother' traits, strong enough to raise someone's child as my own and to accept him/her for all he/she is.

The process was long and gruelling for both me and her father, but also very necessary. It went on for five long years, not just nine months. When you’re carrying a child, your reasons for having a baby are never questioned, nor your health questioned, your finances (or lack of) are not scrutinised, or nor is your house inspected.

When I had our son, I didn't have to write my life story or create a confronting genealogy. I did all the above happily to adopt. I took the process one step at a time, as I did with my pregnancy, to get to the end result successfully. The fact that I was adopting fulfilled our lives and needs on both ends of the equation. I had a need to be a mother again and this child I had not met yet needed a family. It works both ways.

Motherly love to me is the subconscious ability to bond with a tiny passport photo of a baby girl one year before I ever held her or laid eyes on her, just as I did with an ultrasound picture of our son.

On the day we met our daughter in India I already had a huge wholesome bond. When she was handed to me, that powerful love bomb hit me with force again, identical to the day I was handed my son. This was our baby girl; however, she was now 18 months old. She snuggled into my chest within a minute and fell asleep.

When I was told of her birth date, I realised that nine years prior I had done little ink footprints and handprints in my son's baby milestone book and had dated it. Out of 365 days in a year, it happened to be the date of my daughter's birthday when I did those ink prints, although she didn't arrive on earth for another nine years and on the other side of the world.

My kids are like chalk and cheese. They both bring me heartache and joy. I don't sugar-coat motherhood, it’s a bloody hard job of delight and disappointment … we all know that don't we!

Motherly love is sitting in the Cape Woolamai carpark with lights on high beam, flashing out to the surf hopefully to get my son's attention to get out of the ocean while my heart was beating so fast at the fact that it was now dusk.

Motherly love is banning my daughter from the local pub on behalf of the publican without him even knowing about it until I emailed him to go along with the banning! Tick! Motherly love at its best. It gave me respite for three long worriless months until I allowed her back with new skills on how to 'drink like a lady'.

Motherly love is allowing band practice in my loungeroom for my son and his mates on repeat "Smells like teen spirit".

Motherly love is like being a swooping magpie at anyone or anything that threatens the safety, welfare, health or potential of your child. I'm a swooping magpie.”