I have been wanting to get back to my blogging for a couple of months now, but have been putting it off. That's because I've known for a while now what topic would serve as my remergence into the blogosphere: the everso-convicting topic of guilt. Then I read the following article this past week and knew it was time. A couple of weeks ago, I was leading a group at my job where I am an Addictions Counselor. A client was speaking from the traditional AA model, stating that his addiction to heroin and cocaine was a living entity, specifically a monster, with a capital "A". Since he is now in recovery, he stated, his Addiction "monster" is currently barricaded in a closet with lots of locks on the door. Recovery, he added, doesn't mean that the monster is dead; in fact, it is still living and breathing, shaking the door, and just waiting for an opportunity to break out of confinement and once again be unleashed on the world. Driving to work a couple of days ago, I was thinking of this and realized something very important: Guilt, more specifically Mommy Guilt, is my monster in the closet. Yes, I am very good at keeping the locks locked, but Guilt still rattles the door, waiting to break free and consume me. I'm sure Mommy Guilt happens to all mothers at some point and time, whether it be after snapping at your child due to exhaustion, not being able to provide needs (or more likely, wants), or even missing teachable moments. We all lose our cool, get frustrated, and wish we hadn't said the things we had. Then, Guilt tries to take the hinges off the door and distort our minds with thoughts like, "I'm a terrible mother." or "I can't do anything right."
My Guilt isn't so much from irritability or provision, although I have been known to have these moments from time to time. Just as the Mom from the article, I struggle with the Guilt of missed memories. I once had seven wonderful months being with my daughter all the time. Then I went back to work, but first worked at a flexible job that was less than five days a week. A little over two months ago, however, I went back to work full time. Previously, I was that person who didn't want to ever just drop my child off at a daycare, but now I do it all week long. Sometimes, I feel like I don't even know my child anymore. My daughter gets sick and someone else has to go get her, because I don't have time off to take yet (this happened just yesterday). A particular low for me was this past Thursday night when I had to actually ask my daycare worker what TV shows my daughter likes, so I didn't have to keep trying and failing with 50 different TV shows after my daughter points at the TV and says some incomprehensible baby babble. That day, my now old friend Guilt said "What kind of a mother doesn't even know what TV shows their child watches?" Further, I often struggle, because I don't get to do the play dates, crafts, and outings that other moms with more child-focused time do. One big thing I'm still getting used to from my spoiled days with Bella is that now my daughter learns a lot from other people. Before, I knew what she learned was due to me. I saw all of her firsts: rolling, crawling, talking, etc. Now, I hear them from others. I recognize this as an issue of pride and coming from my own selfishness; I do at least acknowledge that in the midst of this introspection.
Jason and I have been talking a lot lately about Isabella's five-day trip to Geisinger's Pediatric Trauma Unit last January. She had gotten a severe concussion from a fall at Daycare. To be honest, I blame myself, as a Working Mom, for this occurring. While cognitively I can grasp this as a complete accident and no one's fault at all whatsoever, Guilt still finds its way in. "If you would have had her home, she wouldn't have fallen," and "You weren't there to comfort her" are a couple of examples Guilt readily provides. Rationally, this doesn't even make sense. She falls all the time. In fact, she just fell, today, like four hours ago. Mommy Guilt, however, doesn't really care. It's irrational and takes no prisoners.
None of this compares though to Guilt's biggest trap: those rare days, moments even, when I don't hear Guilt's whisper at all. I couldn't be completely forthcoming on this issue if I didn't say that I love what I do. I get to assist people in emotional surgery -- I get to help them dig deep down into their pain, cut it out, examine it, and watch it begin to heal. I've been asked before why I work in Drug and Alcohol Counseling and I always say the same thing: because every little change made, most even unobservable to an outsider, is a major difference. An anniversary without a drink is huge, but so isn't setting a healthy boundary with a trigger. There have been days when I look back at the end and realize, I didn't miss Isabella as much as I "should" have. Guilt immediately attempts to cause chaos telling me I am a failure as a mother and undeserving of my gift. I think our infertility journey majorly contributes to this as well, since I often hear a message akin to "You worked so hard for six years to have this child and you can't even spend six waking hours with her some days". Guilt can be vindictive like that sometimes.
While I've had quite a few self-pity days lately, I do recognize that this Guilt factor is a wedge that is undeserving of any of my precious time or attention. It would still be there whether or not I was working. Like I said earlier, if it wasn't my employment status, it would be my exhaustion or absentmindedness that would be the main contributor. That is because I've learned enough about the human condition to understand that Mommy Guilt isn't my own, but rather, it is owned by a huge population within our Mommy species. We women, particularly mom's under stress, are well versed in taking the tiniest imperfection we see in ourselves and amplifying it until it seemingly defines the very parent we embody. To make it worse, we don't just stop there, oh no, we think that every other mother only sees this parenting blemish on the end of our noses and is secretly judging us for having the kids screaming so badly we had to leave the store early or if our daughter goes to church with her shirt on backwards (both have happened to me by the way). Unfortunately, these insecurities are hard to break since often our negative messages started long before mommy-hood, probably due to some traumatic event at a junior high dance or on a school bus, I suppose.
I'm learning how to deal with Guilt. Just like having an Addiction, I'm sure that Guilt will probably always find a way of at least creeping into the back of my mind. I'm just learning, day-by-day, sometimes minute-by-minute, how to add extra locks, reinforce the hinges, and tame the beast itself. In the mean time, I treasure the moments I do have with my daughter, whether it be by having a water fight INSIDE the house (gasp!) or hours snuggling, comforting, and enjoying my miracle baby when I get home. So what, sometimes my daughter doesn't go to be until 10:30 because I get home at 8:30, but at least I'm with her. I also acknowledge and do some go old Reality Testing when Guilt tries to take over in our special moments. I tell myself that I know she is securely attached, since she is one of the happiest, well-adjusted children you'll ever meet (honestly -- we hear it all the time). We participate in what I call our "Bella and Mommy bits": we have a bunch of things that only make sense to us and some that would even appear crazy to anyone else. Most importantly though, I'm learning to let go of the need to control everything so closely. After all, sometimes the fun is in the surprise and not the scheduled.
~Bella's Mommy
My Guilt isn't so much from irritability or provision, although I have been known to have these moments from time to time. Just as the Mom from the article, I struggle with the Guilt of missed memories. I once had seven wonderful months being with my daughter all the time. Then I went back to work, but first worked at a flexible job that was less than five days a week. A little over two months ago, however, I went back to work full time. Previously, I was that person who didn't want to ever just drop my child off at a daycare, but now I do it all week long. Sometimes, I feel like I don't even know my child anymore. My daughter gets sick and someone else has to go get her, because I don't have time off to take yet (this happened just yesterday). A particular low for me was this past Thursday night when I had to actually ask my daycare worker what TV shows my daughter likes, so I didn't have to keep trying and failing with 50 different TV shows after my daughter points at the TV and says some incomprehensible baby babble. That day, my now old friend Guilt said "What kind of a mother doesn't even know what TV shows their child watches?" Further, I often struggle, because I don't get to do the play dates, crafts, and outings that other moms with more child-focused time do. One big thing I'm still getting used to from my spoiled days with Bella is that now my daughter learns a lot from other people. Before, I knew what she learned was due to me. I saw all of her firsts: rolling, crawling, talking, etc. Now, I hear them from others. I recognize this as an issue of pride and coming from my own selfishness; I do at least acknowledge that in the midst of this introspection.
 |
| In the hospital January 2013 |
Jason and I have been talking a lot lately about Isabella's five-day trip to Geisinger's Pediatric Trauma Unit last January. She had gotten a severe concussion from a fall at Daycare. To be honest, I blame myself, as a Working Mom, for this occurring. While cognitively I can grasp this as a complete accident and no one's fault at all whatsoever, Guilt still finds its way in. "If you would have had her home, she wouldn't have fallen," and "You weren't there to comfort her" are a couple of examples Guilt readily provides. Rationally, this doesn't even make sense. She falls all the time. In fact, she just fell, today, like four hours ago. Mommy Guilt, however, doesn't really care. It's irrational and takes no prisoners.
None of this compares though to Guilt's biggest trap: those rare days, moments even, when I don't hear Guilt's whisper at all. I couldn't be completely forthcoming on this issue if I didn't say that I love what I do. I get to assist people in emotional surgery -- I get to help them dig deep down into their pain, cut it out, examine it, and watch it begin to heal. I've been asked before why I work in Drug and Alcohol Counseling and I always say the same thing: because every little change made, most even unobservable to an outsider, is a major difference. An anniversary without a drink is huge, but so isn't setting a healthy boundary with a trigger. There have been days when I look back at the end and realize, I didn't miss Isabella as much as I "should" have. Guilt immediately attempts to cause chaos telling me I am a failure as a mother and undeserving of my gift. I think our infertility journey majorly contributes to this as well, since I often hear a message akin to "You worked so hard for six years to have this child and you can't even spend six waking hours with her some days". Guilt can be vindictive like that sometimes.
While I've had quite a few self-pity days lately, I do recognize that this Guilt factor is a wedge that is undeserving of any of my precious time or attention. It would still be there whether or not I was working. Like I said earlier, if it wasn't my employment status, it would be my exhaustion or absentmindedness that would be the main contributor. That is because I've learned enough about the human condition to understand that Mommy Guilt isn't my own, but rather, it is owned by a huge population within our Mommy species. We women, particularly mom's under stress, are well versed in taking the tiniest imperfection we see in ourselves and amplifying it until it seemingly defines the very parent we embody. To make it worse, we don't just stop there, oh no, we think that every other mother only sees this parenting blemish on the end of our noses and is secretly judging us for having the kids screaming so badly we had to leave the store early or if our daughter goes to church with her shirt on backwards (both have happened to me by the way). Unfortunately, these insecurities are hard to break since often our negative messages started long before mommy-hood, probably due to some traumatic event at a junior high dance or on a school bus, I suppose.  |
| Post-indoor water fight |
~Bella's Mommy
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