Mommy's Baby

Since I left China to attend Harvard in 1992, I have been back and forth between the US and China many times. The first couple of times of saying good-bye to my mom were a bit difficult and emotional, but later on, she and I both got used to it. In addition, we would talk on the phone once a week, which is perhaps more often than some people whose parents live in the same country. In the past couple of years, as I have been working on this startup company bridging the US and China, I have been going back to China up to 4 or 5 times a year, so she said jokingly once that she got sick of seeing me so often.

Yesterday, my mom just left to return to Beijing, after staying with me in Bay Area for four months, helping to take care of me before I gave birth and helping to take care of the baby afterwards. I have not been exactly easy to live with, being an inexperienced and obsessed new mom. We had a few tearful arguments, although I cannot remember over what topic. I found myself crying uncontrollably when she was saying good-bye yesterday, and I could literally feel my heart breaking. The last few days before she left, she would periodically pause to look at Winston’s flashing photos in the digital photo album, and would mention that I should really get him a passport as soon as possible. An incredibly intense sadness swept over me as she waved goodbye to me, while I held Winston in my arms. He was very calm at the time, looking curiously around him, completely unaware of the emotional turmoil of his mother and his grandma. My mom has never been an emotional type, but she got teary-eyed as well, although she tried to stay cheerful for my sake, “Look at you. You are already 38 years old, and you are still crying like a baby. Even Winston is not crying.”

Indeed, why was I feeling so sad, I thought to myself. Perhaps it is because it is always hard to say good-bye to someone who has shared really difficult times with you for a while – it is as if suddenly you cannot imagine dealing with future challenges yourself. Perhaps it is because I know that my mom is getting old, and that I suddenly sense that mortality is a real thing. Perhaps it is because Winston will not recognize my mom next time he sees her, and will never know how much effort his grandmother has made taking care of him during his first three months. Perhaps it is because I have got used to having my mom around again, that I suddenly cannot imagine living in her absence again?

Maybe in a sense, while I am the mommy for my baby, I have myself remained my mommy’s baby. When Winston grows up, no matter how old he becomes, he, also will remain his mommy’s baby. We are all mommy’s babies, regardless of how old, mature, independent or successful we are.