Last meal I ate before giving birth
One of the most unforgettable memories from the final days of my pregnancy wasn’t my Amma`s arrival.
She travelled all the way from Sri Lanka and arrived just three days before I gave birth. Looking back now, I truly believe her arrival was God’s perfect timing. Believe me I went with my husband to Narita Airport. Because I wanted to see her arrival even though I was too close with the dates.
After years of being away from home, she brought a little piece of Sri Lanka into my tiny kitchen in Japan.
Pregnancy wasn’t easy for me. For several months, I struggled to enjoy food. Morning sickness, nausea, and a poor appetite made eating feel like a challenge rather than something to look forward to. So many of my favourite Sri Lankan dishes became distant memories. I missed the comforting flavours. I had grown up with and often wondered when I would be able to enjoy them again.
Then Amma arrived.
The aroma of her cooking instantly filled our home with warmth. She prepared everything I had been craving for months—soft, flavourful polos (young jackfruit curry), tangy fish ambul thiyal, spicy pol sambol, freshly cooked rice, and so many other traditional Sri Lankan dishes that I loved. Every meal tasted like home, childhood, and unconditional love. I love to remind my loving Akka, malli as well tatta also they all had sent their love and warmth with Amma.
One thing about me is that I have always loved being fed by my amma. Even as an adult, whenever I went back home, I would happily sit beside her while she fed me with her own hands. It was one of those little things that never changed.
That day was no different.
I was 37 weeks and 2 days pregnant, sitting comfortably in front of the television while Amma fed me dinner with her hands. My husband was in the bathroom getting ready, and everything felt so ordinary. We were chatting, watching TV, and enjoying a peaceful afternoon together. Looking back now, I never imagined that those few quiet moments would become one of the most precious memories of my life.
After finishing a few more mouthfuls, I stood up to walk into the kitchen.
The moment I stood, I suddenly felt something unusual.
My water had broken.
For a second, I simply froze. Amma looked at me, and we both immediately realized what had happened. The peaceful afternoon instantly turned into excitement, nervous laughter, and a little bit of panic. My husband quickly came out, and just like that, everything changed.
Only a few minutes earlier, I had been sitting there like a little girl, happily eating while my amma lovingly fed me. Moments later, I was about to become a mother myself.
That memory has stayed with me ever since.
Living abroad teaches you to become independent, but it also makes you realize how priceless a mother’s presence is. I often think about how fortunate I was that Amma had arrived from Sri Lanka just three days earlier. If she hadn’t been there, I would have missed those final moments of being cared for by my own mother before stepping into motherhood myself.
No restaurant, no recipe, and no delivery can ever replace food prepared by your Amma.
Sometimes I wonder if life gave me that beautiful moment as a gift,—a quiet reminder that before I became someone’s mother, I was still my mother’s little girl.
It is a memory I will treasure for the rest of my life.
My baby will see these posts one day! I am writing all these posts in this my little platform all because this will be a memory for all of us in one day.
