Mothering the Best We Can

I have been a mom for nearly 14 years now. My mind can hardly take that in, these milestones making timeline sense, but not every day life sense. My kids were born into relationship with a trauma-filled mom, a traumatized me. We probably all are to some extent. I hadn’t had the resources or opportunity to work on myself when they showed up. I was parenting with a bold kindness toward my little ones, but ultimately, I wasn’t ready for them to be mine. I was suffocating.

I specifically remember feeling this when Ever came along. She entered the world fast as lightning, hello accidental home birth. Put that on my (and Phil’s) resume. She was unsettled as a newborn, needing to be held and nursed almost constantly; she cried more than she slept. I remember feeling resentful toward her need, not her, but her need. I was unable to meet her constant need and I felt ashamed. I’ve struggled with touch my whole life, so nursing and holding a baby almost always made me feel agitated and depleted. I wasn’t filled up to give. I was giving out of an emptiness. I’ll never forget how lonely it all felt.

 

I’m proud to say I’ve had the opportunity and desire to really look at myself and choose to live differently. I’m proud that I’ve done “the work” the counseling, other therapies, medicine work that has me living more fully. I’m able to give to my loved ones because I want to, not because I have to. I have more to work on, probably always, and I’m content with that. 

 

We’ve needed to show up differently in our parenting since the shooting; of course we have. Sometimes we are up to the challenge and other times we are not and we are content with that too. Last week Ever was hitting a wall almost every day, so fatigued by the demands of what used to be a normal school day. It’s hard to know when to tap out and when to press through, and our family commitments outside of school have been a lot on top. She got in the car depleted once again. I told her to lean her chair back and cuddle with a blanket. We were on our way to Rock’s track meet and she needed a reset.

 

My precious 5^th grader fell asleep, all tucked together in a bundle. My own exhausted heart wanted to give her any bit of energy I had left. I wanted her to be a baby again, so I could meet her needs by wrapping her up and holding her close. The skin to skin moments that I struggled with so much suddenly felt like a magical idea. I grabbed her ankle as we drove. I thought maybe, just maybe, skin to skin can have the same effects now as when our kids are little. I thought maybe, just maybe, God created this force between parents and kids to show his love and his presence whenever we need it. I teared up driving, hardly believing my heart wanted to give away what little I had left because my love for her in her struggle was suddenly so big. These haven’t been normal mom feelings for me.

 

I know if given the opportunity to go back in time and do things over, I would definitely go back for a re-do when my kids were infants and toddlers. In a heartbeat I would use what I know now to do that season differently. And also, I am so thankful for my mending heart. I am so thankful I can give what I can and get what I need, so that my love can come from a deep well. I’m no longer empty.