THE GUT BETWEEN US – PART 4

MODERN MOTHERHOOD: WHAT THE GUT REMEMBERS, WHAT THE HEART FORGETS

“CHILDREN GROW UP WITH BLOATED STOMACHS AND STARVED INTIMACY.”

We have redefined motherhood.

We have turned the most instinctive act of human bonding into a tightly scheduled, app-tracked, sterile, isolated performance.

The result?

Children today are overfed and under-held.

They grow with full tummies and empty hearts.

And the first thing that breaks down is not the relationship — it’s the gut.

HOSPITAL BIRTH TO HOSPITAL CHILDHOOD

The child is born in a hospital.

Raised on hospital instructions.

Fed according to hospital rules.

Cared for by hospital-trained nurses.

Modern motherhood begins with a silent message:

“The experts know better than your instincts.”

So mothers obey.

They listen to growth charts, bottle measurements, formula dosages, sleep schedules.

They are praised for precision, not presence.

They follow protocol, not intuition.

But the child doesn’t digest charts.

The child digests contact. rhythm. voice. warmth. bacteria. eye contact. scent. safety.

These are not optional.

They are gut fuel.

“A baby’s gut reads presence. Not perfection.”

THE CLEANER THE HOME, THE DIRTIER THE GUT

In Indian urban homes today, babies are raised in hyper-sanitised environments:

Floors are bleached.

Toys are sterilised.

Hands are sanitised every 15 minutes.

Outdoor play is restricted.

Contact with pets, plants, and dust is discouraged.

But the gut is not a museum.

It is a forest.

When you kill off exposure to soil, leaves, people, animals —

you kill off the chance for the gut to learn balance.

“The gut can’t grow in a prison. It needs a village.”

SCREENS INSTEAD OF SKIN

Today, the mother may be physically next to the child.

But emotionally, she is somewhere else:

On Instagram.

On WhatsApp.

On parenting apps.

On work calls.

On reels and influencers giving her ten ways to raise an “independent child.”

And so, when the child cries, she looks up briefly —

hands over a phone or toy —

then disappears again into the screen.

What the child learns is this:

“My emotions are inconvenient.

I must manage myself.

Alone.”

And the gut learns this too — by tensing up, bloating, inflaming, or slowing down.

“The gut doesn’t lie. It reports abandonment in real time.”

DAYCARES, ISOLATION, AND COMMERCIAL TOUCH

Many Indian babies today spend 8–10 hours in daycares, even from 6 months of age.

Others are raised primarily by maids.

Others stay home but are left alone for hours with television or toys.

Some are parked in walkers and rockers all day.

The result?

No co-regulation.

No natural microbial exposure.

No one to match their breathing.

No one to emotionally anchor their tiny bodies.

And so their immune system flares up.

Their nervous system stays alert.

Their gut develops issues — gas, constipation, hyperacidity, eczema, asthma.

These are not medical errors.

They are relational injuries.

“Where the mother is absent, the gut becomes anxious.”

THE MOTHER’S ANXIETY TURNS INTO THE CHILD’S BLOATING

Let’s be brutally honest.

Many modern Indian mothers are anxious, depleted, distracted, angry, and over-performing.

Not because they are bad — but because they are overburdened, unprepared, and unsupported.

But the body doesn’t care why.

The child’s gut simply receives the signals.

A mother in chronic stress produces:

Breastmilk with altered hormone levels

Cortisol-driven touch

Inconsistent availability

Shallow breath and short fuses

And so, the child learns to clench. tense. expect unpredictability. fear asking.

All of this lives in the gut.

“You can’t Google your way into safety. The child knows when you’re not there.”

CONCLUSION: THE MODERN GUT IS A LONELY GUT

Children today are not sick because they are weak.

They are sick because they were not held in time.

Modern motherhood is doing the opposite of what the gut needs:

Replacing community with instruction

Replacing connection with convenience

Replacing intuition with approval

And slowly, a new disease is spreading —

one with no fever, no visible wound:

a hollow gut.

an empty bond.

a lifelong confusion about trust.

“When the gut is confused, the heart forgets what love felt like.”

“And when the heart forgets, the home becomes a battlefield.”