Motherhood

Love is a completely different thing from your mind.Both whir in opposite directions meeting all the time but only in part like 2 gears.
When I suckle my baby I do not feel like the virgin Mary or ma Yashoda.There is love for the small life that I am holding in my hands but it isn't some divine outpouring like they said it ll be.
The character that comes to my mind is somehow that of Puthana.
The rakshasi who came to suckle baby Krishna to death. Poison smeared on her nipples they say she started feeding baby Krishna ,but then the love in his eyes and the way he tugged at her nipples ,they say intoxicated her and she fell dead,a smile on her lips, a cherubic baby Krishna still suckling her breast.
If that isn't motherhood what is ?