First off: sorry for the delay in updating. Between recovering from my surgery ("I got better!"), hunting for a new place to live (#$&^@% bad housing market and overpriced rentals!), trying to be the Promotions Manager for my local mommies group (I feel like an overworked Stage Manager who was just told they're also the Producer but have no money), and taking care of house and family I'm swamped!
But I wanted to tell everyone about a really important event coming up. Pick Up the Phone is an awareness event by the 1-800-Suicide/Hope Line organization. It works to raise awareness about Postpartum Depression, Bi-Polar Disorder and Depression. These issues are very near and dear to me. I struggled with both BPD and depression for many years. I also have had bouts of PPD. My mom also had issues with depression and BPD. I will not deny that at many times I felt at that edge of suicide. Thankfully I had people I could turn to or ways to keep going. But many people do not. People still see these as things to be ashamed of, to not talk about. Honestly- that is why suicide keeps happening. If people were able to TALK about what was going on. If they felt they could turn to people close to them and get the support they need then the rate of suicide would drop. I wish there wasn't a need for hotlines to help people come down from that ledge. But there is, because people don't always feel they can turn to their families, their friends.
So, this Friday, February 25th Pick Up the Phone 2011 tour kicks off in DC. I will be there to speak for 5 minutes before the show about The Mommies Network, a national organization with local chapters that helps and supports all moms through all aspects of life. Each chapter has their own PPD forums where women can talk about and get support with their PPD, depression, etc. If you want to find a chapter near you please check here. I'm sure I'll even talk about my own struggles.
For more information about the tour please check here.
And remember- depression, bi-polar, any thoughts of suicide are not things to be ashamed of. If you, or someone you know is struggling, please get help. Give a caring ear or even just be present for them.
20 February 2011
06 February 2011
Shoe #3
Ok, the good news: my surgery on Thursday went well. I am less one gallbladder with the only complication being that it was hard for me to wake-up from the anesthesia. Apparently red heads are more susceptible to anesthesia and have a harder time coming around from it. There's something in our genetic code is what I've been told. Yay for being a mutant! Now, can I get some cool powers? Whenever I dozed off my oxygen levels kept dropping (not alarmingly so, just lower than they should have). So I stayed in the first phase of recovery a bit longer than is normal. I got home and was able to climb the stairs to my bedroom and climb into bed ok. I've spent the past few days sleeping and resting as much as I can. So far I've managed to get up and down stairs, in and out of a higher bed, walk down to get the mail, and keep down everything I've eaten. We're going to work on me being able to stand up and sit down unassisted, carry Rowan around a bit more, and see how long I can stretch going without my pain medication. My father-in-law was kind enough to come out and help us, but he leaves on Wednesday so I need to be at least partially able to help at bedtimes and during the night.
So now the "fun" part. Shoe #3 Friday, the day after my surgery, Adam got a registered letter from the agency we rent our home from. The owners are returning. You know what that means? Yup, we've got to move. Thankfully they were nice and gave us 2 months notice instead of the 1 month required by our lease. Our first thoughts were to look at the 2 homes for sale in our little neighborhood. See, we really love the community we've grown and become a part of. People shovel each others walks, help with cars, kids, pets. We have impromptu dinner picnics and play parking lot soccer. Adam is the neighborhood bike guy. The kids are constantly bringing their bikes over to be worked on. But our finances are so tight right now and we have no down payment. So sadly, after 2 years of being in this fantastic neighborhood and wonderful home we have to move. Now we are hunting out rentals that fit our budget and household. That is NOT easy in this area. This is further complicated by the fact that we aren't looking to rent right this week or even next. We could do the start of March and pay rent on 2 places at the same time. That we might be able to eek out of the stone that is our finances. In the DC area/region though people don't want to rent to you "soon", they want it right away. So if we hunt now they may pass us up to get someone in sooner. So do we look and pay the extra money on a home we see that's available now and we like? Or do we wait and hope something else comes along and not have to spend as much? Our option is the former. We'd prefer to have something set and not worry about having a place to go come the end of March.
We had so enjoyed the break from moving. I guess the housing deities didn't see it fit to grant us much of a reprieve.
You may wonder why we don't stop renting and buy? Aside from the fact that we don't have much saved we don't know if Adam's job is going to become permanent. He's on a contract working for the government. The contract can be renewed endlessly, terminated by budget cuts, or he could get lucky and get hired on permanently. The only case where we'd feel secure buying is if he got hired on. We won't know that information until... well... who knows. So to avoid buying a home only to have to sell and all the "joys" with that we're going to keep renting. For now.
Sorry for the rambling. I blame the pain meds with the added stress!
So now the "fun" part. Shoe #3 Friday, the day after my surgery, Adam got a registered letter from the agency we rent our home from. The owners are returning. You know what that means? Yup, we've got to move. Thankfully they were nice and gave us 2 months notice instead of the 1 month required by our lease. Our first thoughts were to look at the 2 homes for sale in our little neighborhood. See, we really love the community we've grown and become a part of. People shovel each others walks, help with cars, kids, pets. We have impromptu dinner picnics and play parking lot soccer. Adam is the neighborhood bike guy. The kids are constantly bringing their bikes over to be worked on. But our finances are so tight right now and we have no down payment. So sadly, after 2 years of being in this fantastic neighborhood and wonderful home we have to move. Now we are hunting out rentals that fit our budget and household. That is NOT easy in this area. This is further complicated by the fact that we aren't looking to rent right this week or even next. We could do the start of March and pay rent on 2 places at the same time. That we might be able to eek out of the stone that is our finances. In the DC area/region though people don't want to rent to you "soon", they want it right away. So if we hunt now they may pass us up to get someone in sooner. So do we look and pay the extra money on a home we see that's available now and we like? Or do we wait and hope something else comes along and not have to spend as much? Our option is the former. We'd prefer to have something set and not worry about having a place to go come the end of March.
We had so enjoyed the break from moving. I guess the housing deities didn't see it fit to grant us much of a reprieve.
You may wonder why we don't stop renting and buy? Aside from the fact that we don't have much saved we don't know if Adam's job is going to become permanent. He's on a contract working for the government. The contract can be renewed endlessly, terminated by budget cuts, or he could get lucky and get hired on permanently. The only case where we'd feel secure buying is if he got hired on. We won't know that information until... well... who knows. So to avoid buying a home only to have to sell and all the "joys" with that we're going to keep renting. For now.
Sorry for the rambling. I blame the pain meds with the added stress!
28 January 2011
Remember
When I was a teenager I once got the idea into my head to type up and post words around my room and bathroom. 17 big bold words that I printed and used packing tape to affix where I thought they'd be most visible. They were to be reminders of things, ideas and ideals. My then boyfriend dismissed them as being childish, dumb and inane. But to me they had meaning and purpose. I taped "Look" onto my mirror to remind myself to really look at myself, not just at the surface but deeper. "Hear" went over my phone to remind me to always give the person I was talking to my full attention. To not just listen to them but to really hear what they were saying. Other words "Hope, Trust, Seek, Kind" were scattered around. They were aspects of me that I wanted to remind myself were good. Things I wanted to achieve more of. As teens we often only see the bad in our lives and selves. These were my own personal affirmations if you will. Each one with many possible meanings. I valued each word. They made me stronger, more confident but also helped me to grow and stretch myself.
Now I feel my idea of self slipping again. I added wife to my titles, then mom, now mom of two. Each time I have had to reconfigure part of me. Not because it was necessarily hard or that I had to change my core self. But because as we evolve in our lives, as we take on new things we must change and adapt. It's not bad, but we can sometimes become so focused on those few changes that we lose sight of the whole. We never stop being who we were before the new titles and roles were added. But that self can get lost in the shuffle and mayhem, especially when it comes to kids. When you have children you must change your focus to someone who can, in no way, fend for themselves. You have to be their world and they yours. Even in all of that you cannot lose sight of your own personal world. To do so could mean that years later risk looking back and having no idea of who you are or were. You may come to resent having taken on so much with little given back.
With kids around you often forget what to work on in your life and self. You are so focused on working on these small people, to help them reach their goals. Your own ideas of who and what you want to be can get pushed away. While you are there to remind your children of their own words who is there to remind you of yours?
So I find myself revisiting these words. Seeing if they all fit to the me I have evolved to. Are there new words I should put in? Are "Honor, Think, Hope, Grow" really where I'm at now or a path I must follow? Do I still embody "Friend, Care, Truth"? Is "Find" still something I must do? I think I would add a few. "Relax, Wait, Patience" should find their way to my walls. Sometimes I think if I could just "Stop" or "Slow" down things would be a bit calmer. I'm sure many think "Close" should be on my laptop. Should I put "Notice" in the playroom? Of all the words on my list the last is, was and always will be the most important. It is one I intend on passing down to my children and letting them chose its meaning, place and value. "Believe".
Now I feel my idea of self slipping again. I added wife to my titles, then mom, now mom of two. Each time I have had to reconfigure part of me. Not because it was necessarily hard or that I had to change my core self. But because as we evolve in our lives, as we take on new things we must change and adapt. It's not bad, but we can sometimes become so focused on those few changes that we lose sight of the whole. We never stop being who we were before the new titles and roles were added. But that self can get lost in the shuffle and mayhem, especially when it comes to kids. When you have children you must change your focus to someone who can, in no way, fend for themselves. You have to be their world and they yours. Even in all of that you cannot lose sight of your own personal world. To do so could mean that years later risk looking back and having no idea of who you are or were. You may come to resent having taken on so much with little given back.
With kids around you often forget what to work on in your life and self. You are so focused on working on these small people, to help them reach their goals. Your own ideas of who and what you want to be can get pushed away. While you are there to remind your children of their own words who is there to remind you of yours?
So I find myself revisiting these words. Seeing if they all fit to the me I have evolved to. Are there new words I should put in? Are "Honor, Think, Hope, Grow" really where I'm at now or a path I must follow? Do I still embody "Friend, Care, Truth"? Is "Find" still something I must do? I think I would add a few. "Relax, Wait, Patience" should find their way to my walls. Sometimes I think if I could just "Stop" or "Slow" down things would be a bit calmer. I'm sure many think "Close" should be on my laptop. Should I put "Notice" in the playroom? Of all the words on my list the last is, was and always will be the most important. It is one I intend on passing down to my children and letting them chose its meaning, place and value. "Believe".
27 January 2011
The other shoe went THUNK!!
And just like that- things change. After my last post you'd think everything would be sunshine and roses right? Yeah, not so much.
I touched on helping kids have healthy emotions before (see Healthy Emotions Oct. '10). But this time, it's a bit different. How do I help Kara understand why I'm so scared and worried?
First some back story. Ever since Rowan was born I've been having some serious pain. Every month or so I'd get a shooting stabbing pain in my chest that would radiate out like a bra band around my chest and just squeeze. Each time I would get sick and throw up then feel better. I did the wise thing and (eventually) went to my doctor who thought it was heartburn. I got a medication and the name of a gastrointestinal doctor in case the medication didn't help. Well, it didn't. So off I went to see what else this could be. His thought? Gallstones. Oh goody. He ordered a sonogram and blood work. The latter to be done after another attack. Well lucky me the night before the sonogram was scheduled I had an attack. So first thing in the morning I got blood drawn and the sonogram. I called the doctor to let him know about the new attack and how much worse it was. His response? "have you gone to the ER already?". Um.... what? No.... should I have? Turns out the answer is Yes. Aurgh! He was 90% sure my gallbladder needs to come out. So 2 days later I got to meet with a surgeon who pretty much only does this sort of thing. When you meet with a surgeon it's rarely and "if you need surgery" and usually a "when you need surgery". Oh goody again.
I would like to state here and now that I do not like the idea of surgery. I've had it before and just don't like it. Think about it- a bunch of people get together and put you in clothes you would never pick out on your own. They stick all sorts of monitoring devices on you, insert needles, put masks on you all to pump chemicals you've never even heard of into your system. All for the purpose of making you unconscious to the point you won't even dream or preventing you from feeling pain. Then a bunch of people you really don't know put holes in your body, scope around inside it and remove something you were still using! I'm sorry but I was using that organ just a few minutes ago. Now comes the really fun part- recovery! Now if you like to be tended to and not able to do anything for yourself for a few days if not a week great! Enjoy the pampering. Me? nope, uh-uh, no way. Pampering and enjoying it to me is a day (or more) at a spa with quiet music, nice smells, and lots of massages. At home I want to be able to go to the kitchen, the basement, get the mail, go to the store, etc all on my very own. I don't want help getting in and out of a bed or shuffling my way to the bathroom. I really don't want someone to feel they need to sit outside the bathroom while I shower just in case I'm still groggy from all those chemicals they pumped into me. I don't like not knowing my own body as everything tries to shift and resettle.
Now add kids.
Yeah. That just got a whole lot more interesting didn't it? "but mommy, why can't I go with you?" "hey mom look at this!" as they try to bounce on your chest. "mom, since you can't move can I have a cookie? How about I go get them myself." "mommy I think the baby is hungry". Oh it just goes on and on. Especially with my ever so inquisitive, investigative and involved 3 yr old. And do you want to try and explain to the 6 month old why she doesn't get to be cuddled as much by mommy?
Add to all of this the lead up. The not knowing what will exactly happen. The emotional impact it has on me leaks to everyone else. Kara sees that I'm upset and I've tried to explain to her that something in my body isn't working right and needs to be removed. But how to do that without making her afraid of surgery, hospitals and the like? How to explain she can't watch, she can't be there when I go in? I'll be leaving for the hospital before she's even awake. I think even harder for her will be once I get home and she's not able to play with me for awhile. I won't be able to put her to bed or have her cuddle for too long (she kicks). Then Adam will be distracted with taking care of me and Rowan too. Sure, we have some help coming and I know that friends will be willing to assist. But it will still be hard for her. All the special visits and playdates don't make up for mommy.
THUNK THUNK THUNK. Yup, there go more shoes dropping. Sigh. I guess I'll go pick them up and see where I can put them.
I touched on helping kids have healthy emotions before (see Healthy Emotions Oct. '10). But this time, it's a bit different. How do I help Kara understand why I'm so scared and worried?
First some back story. Ever since Rowan was born I've been having some serious pain. Every month or so I'd get a shooting stabbing pain in my chest that would radiate out like a bra band around my chest and just squeeze. Each time I would get sick and throw up then feel better. I did the wise thing and (eventually) went to my doctor who thought it was heartburn. I got a medication and the name of a gastrointestinal doctor in case the medication didn't help. Well, it didn't. So off I went to see what else this could be. His thought? Gallstones. Oh goody. He ordered a sonogram and blood work. The latter to be done after another attack. Well lucky me the night before the sonogram was scheduled I had an attack. So first thing in the morning I got blood drawn and the sonogram. I called the doctor to let him know about the new attack and how much worse it was. His response? "have you gone to the ER already?". Um.... what? No.... should I have? Turns out the answer is Yes. Aurgh! He was 90% sure my gallbladder needs to come out. So 2 days later I got to meet with a surgeon who pretty much only does this sort of thing. When you meet with a surgeon it's rarely and "if you need surgery" and usually a "when you need surgery". Oh goody again.
I would like to state here and now that I do not like the idea of surgery. I've had it before and just don't like it. Think about it- a bunch of people get together and put you in clothes you would never pick out on your own. They stick all sorts of monitoring devices on you, insert needles, put masks on you all to pump chemicals you've never even heard of into your system. All for the purpose of making you unconscious to the point you won't even dream or preventing you from feeling pain. Then a bunch of people you really don't know put holes in your body, scope around inside it and remove something you were still using! I'm sorry but I was using that organ just a few minutes ago. Now comes the really fun part- recovery! Now if you like to be tended to and not able to do anything for yourself for a few days if not a week great! Enjoy the pampering. Me? nope, uh-uh, no way. Pampering and enjoying it to me is a day (or more) at a spa with quiet music, nice smells, and lots of massages. At home I want to be able to go to the kitchen, the basement, get the mail, go to the store, etc all on my very own. I don't want help getting in and out of a bed or shuffling my way to the bathroom. I really don't want someone to feel they need to sit outside the bathroom while I shower just in case I'm still groggy from all those chemicals they pumped into me. I don't like not knowing my own body as everything tries to shift and resettle.
Now add kids.
Yeah. That just got a whole lot more interesting didn't it? "but mommy, why can't I go with you?" "hey mom look at this!" as they try to bounce on your chest. "mom, since you can't move can I have a cookie? How about I go get them myself." "mommy I think the baby is hungry". Oh it just goes on and on. Especially with my ever so inquisitive, investigative and involved 3 yr old. And do you want to try and explain to the 6 month old why she doesn't get to be cuddled as much by mommy?
Add to all of this the lead up. The not knowing what will exactly happen. The emotional impact it has on me leaks to everyone else. Kara sees that I'm upset and I've tried to explain to her that something in my body isn't working right and needs to be removed. But how to do that without making her afraid of surgery, hospitals and the like? How to explain she can't watch, she can't be there when I go in? I'll be leaving for the hospital before she's even awake. I think even harder for her will be once I get home and she's not able to play with me for awhile. I won't be able to put her to bed or have her cuddle for too long (she kicks). Then Adam will be distracted with taking care of me and Rowan too. Sure, we have some help coming and I know that friends will be willing to assist. But it will still be hard for her. All the special visits and playdates don't make up for mommy.
THUNK THUNK THUNK. Yup, there go more shoes dropping. Sigh. I guess I'll go pick them up and see where I can put them.
20 January 2011
Sometimes it just goes right
So often all we hear about are the times things go wrong. It's like we can't focus on the good, we just see the negative in our lives. An entirely good day is overshadowed by the one bad thing that happens. It could be something really simple and minor, but often we focus on that one thing. I am guilty of this, I admit that. At the end of the day I'll tell Adam about everything that happened. I'll say that the day was meh and detail everything. I'll talk about the chores I got done, the good playdate we had and then say but Kara had a tantrum at nap time. And it was that one little thing that sent my day into a downward spiral. But come on, that ONE thing? A tantrum at an expected time? She was tired, she was having fun and didn't want to stop, she's a kid, of course she's going to be upset when I say it's time for a nap!
Yesterday though- for whatever reason. I didn't let those little things make my day bad. And I got A LOT done! Let's see: I folded and put away 4 loads of laundry. Only 2 of them had already been washed, I washed 3 loads of laundry (yes, that means I have a load of laundry to fold and put away). I kept the kitchen clean even after making banana bread and dinner. I had dinner almost done when Adam got home from work and it was a healthy one! The girls were entertained all day and not with videos but here at home. The girls got their naps at appropriate times (and yes, Kara wasn't happy about having to go up for her nap). I made us a good lunch that included veggies (which Kara did eat). Unloaded, reloaded and ran the dishwasher. I even made a doctors appointment for myself, updated my computer calendar, and helped cheer up a friend (behold the power of baby laughter!). At the end of the day we played DDR as a family, I cleaned the cat litters, bathed myself and the girls and we all went to bed at a decent time.
We had our bumps along the way. Kara didn't want to take a nap, Rowan was awake during Kara's nap book reading so I wasn't able to lay with Kara like she prefers. Kara made a bit of a mess when helping with the banana bread, I had to leave some laundry unfolded, Kara fell off the bed (she's ok). A phone conversation I really wanted to have got interrupted and had to be stopped. The list of things that went wrong could have been as long as the list of things that went right. But I told myself that these things would not ruin our day. I was not going to let them get to me. And for at least one day, it worked!
Maybe sometimes it is just about a mindset. Maybe if we remind ourselves that we have done a lot, that a lot has gone right, we won't see only the negative. If we notice the good maybe we'll stop thinking the world is going to end and our lives are shitty when all that happened was a minor glitch. My mom used to tell me that I could turn an anthill into Mt. Everest. If I don't want my girls to do the same and think everything is falling to pieces at the slightest obstacle, maybe it's time for me to see the anthills as just that. An anthill to be dealt with appropriately and in its own time.
Now to see if I can keep some of this momentum going. Because today I want to do more baking, more exercise and get that last load of laundry put away.
Yesterday though- for whatever reason. I didn't let those little things make my day bad. And I got A LOT done! Let's see: I folded and put away 4 loads of laundry. Only 2 of them had already been washed, I washed 3 loads of laundry (yes, that means I have a load of laundry to fold and put away). I kept the kitchen clean even after making banana bread and dinner. I had dinner almost done when Adam got home from work and it was a healthy one! The girls were entertained all day and not with videos but here at home. The girls got their naps at appropriate times (and yes, Kara wasn't happy about having to go up for her nap). I made us a good lunch that included veggies (which Kara did eat). Unloaded, reloaded and ran the dishwasher. I even made a doctors appointment for myself, updated my computer calendar, and helped cheer up a friend (behold the power of baby laughter!). At the end of the day we played DDR as a family, I cleaned the cat litters, bathed myself and the girls and we all went to bed at a decent time.
We had our bumps along the way. Kara didn't want to take a nap, Rowan was awake during Kara's nap book reading so I wasn't able to lay with Kara like she prefers. Kara made a bit of a mess when helping with the banana bread, I had to leave some laundry unfolded, Kara fell off the bed (she's ok). A phone conversation I really wanted to have got interrupted and had to be stopped. The list of things that went wrong could have been as long as the list of things that went right. But I told myself that these things would not ruin our day. I was not going to let them get to me. And for at least one day, it worked!
Maybe sometimes it is just about a mindset. Maybe if we remind ourselves that we have done a lot, that a lot has gone right, we won't see only the negative. If we notice the good maybe we'll stop thinking the world is going to end and our lives are shitty when all that happened was a minor glitch. My mom used to tell me that I could turn an anthill into Mt. Everest. If I don't want my girls to do the same and think everything is falling to pieces at the slightest obstacle, maybe it's time for me to see the anthills as just that. An anthill to be dealt with appropriately and in its own time.
Now to see if I can keep some of this momentum going. Because today I want to do more baking, more exercise and get that last load of laundry put away.
16 January 2011
13 January 2011
Motherless mom
Since I have had Kara I have learned just how valuable having a mom is. No one can replace the ability to talk about parenting with the woman who raised you. You can surround yourself with other moms, you can have a great mother-in-law, but it doesn't replace or make up for not having the woman who parented you there. Sometimes she left your life early, sometimes later. You may have known her really well or not at all, but you still feel her absence.
I often have mini conversations with my mom. I will ask her "how did you do this? how did you get through everything?" In my head I will hear a reply of "I just did." But I know that her real reply would have been much longer, much more thought out and caring. I'm sure it would have included at least one "oh, babe" or a gentle knowing smile. Sure I can ask my dad how things went, but the answer is not the same as it would be from her.
Not everything with mom was sunshine and rainbows. I don't want readers to think that she was always a great mom. Hell is putting it mildly some of the things she put us through. Mom drank, a lot, frequently. Starting in about 5th grade or so she was absent from my life more than not. She had some amazing clear moments and times. And then life was so wonderful! Not because she wasn't drunk but because she, genuinely, was a fantastic woman. I even remember my entire senior year of high school with great fondness in part because she was sober for almost the entire year! But past that and she was drunk. Drinking is what killed her. She was drunk, she fell and got a concussion. I am glad I no longer have to deal with the drunk. But I miss the woman, and especially the mom, she really was.
So back to being a motherless mother. When you don't have that one person to turn to how do you cope? Why is it that getting advice from people who aren't Mom just isn't as true, real or important? Is it the title or the fact that this woman grew you, raised you, and then left? Does it make it any more painful if she left early in your life? or later? I don't think the duration of her presence is that important, you still feel the loss. You still notice the gaping hole that, no matter how hard you try, you cannot fill, patch over or ignore.
I sometimes wonder if my children are anything like I was. Did my mom often watch me and see her behaviors reflected back? How did she try to adjust her own behavior to help me erase the bad ones and keep the good ones? Did she ever struggle to figure out my own sleep behavior and get it to match what she needed from me? I know my dad can fill in some of the gaps, but somehow it isn't the same as hearing it from her.
I have a large collection of my mom's writing. Some of it was creative, some was journals. In the 11 and a half years she's been gone I have read through some of it maybe 7 times. I keep hoping that when I do get a chance to look through it I'll find some piece that mentions me, her struggles, her choices. A guide almost to how she parented. But I also fear what I may find in all those pages. I don't know if it's content or lack thereof that I fear the most.
I look at my girls and I feel a strong resolve to make sure I'm healthy and around as long as possible. I want to be here for them when/if they go through their own mothering crisis. I don't want them to have to imagine me saying "I just did" or "oh, babe". I want them to be able to use whatever new technologies exist then to contact me and hear me say "I struggled through it. I had some really rough times. But then you'd turn to me and smile or hug me and I knew then that all the rough times must surely be worth it".
As a resource for others going through this. Please check out Hope Edelman's books "Motherless Daughters" and "Motherless Mothers". While I have not had the funds or chance to read the latter the former was of great benefit to me. You can find out more about her on her site http://www.hopeedelman.com/
I often have mini conversations with my mom. I will ask her "how did you do this? how did you get through everything?" In my head I will hear a reply of "I just did." But I know that her real reply would have been much longer, much more thought out and caring. I'm sure it would have included at least one "oh, babe" or a gentle knowing smile. Sure I can ask my dad how things went, but the answer is not the same as it would be from her.
Not everything with mom was sunshine and rainbows. I don't want readers to think that she was always a great mom. Hell is putting it mildly some of the things she put us through. Mom drank, a lot, frequently. Starting in about 5th grade or so she was absent from my life more than not. She had some amazing clear moments and times. And then life was so wonderful! Not because she wasn't drunk but because she, genuinely, was a fantastic woman. I even remember my entire senior year of high school with great fondness in part because she was sober for almost the entire year! But past that and she was drunk. Drinking is what killed her. She was drunk, she fell and got a concussion. I am glad I no longer have to deal with the drunk. But I miss the woman, and especially the mom, she really was.
So back to being a motherless mother. When you don't have that one person to turn to how do you cope? Why is it that getting advice from people who aren't Mom just isn't as true, real or important? Is it the title or the fact that this woman grew you, raised you, and then left? Does it make it any more painful if she left early in your life? or later? I don't think the duration of her presence is that important, you still feel the loss. You still notice the gaping hole that, no matter how hard you try, you cannot fill, patch over or ignore.
I sometimes wonder if my children are anything like I was. Did my mom often watch me and see her behaviors reflected back? How did she try to adjust her own behavior to help me erase the bad ones and keep the good ones? Did she ever struggle to figure out my own sleep behavior and get it to match what she needed from me? I know my dad can fill in some of the gaps, but somehow it isn't the same as hearing it from her.
I have a large collection of my mom's writing. Some of it was creative, some was journals. In the 11 and a half years she's been gone I have read through some of it maybe 7 times. I keep hoping that when I do get a chance to look through it I'll find some piece that mentions me, her struggles, her choices. A guide almost to how she parented. But I also fear what I may find in all those pages. I don't know if it's content or lack thereof that I fear the most.
I look at my girls and I feel a strong resolve to make sure I'm healthy and around as long as possible. I want to be here for them when/if they go through their own mothering crisis. I don't want them to have to imagine me saying "I just did" or "oh, babe". I want them to be able to use whatever new technologies exist then to contact me and hear me say "I struggled through it. I had some really rough times. But then you'd turn to me and smile or hug me and I knew then that all the rough times must surely be worth it".
As a resource for others going through this. Please check out Hope Edelman's books "Motherless Daughters" and "Motherless Mothers". While I have not had the funds or chance to read the latter the former was of great benefit to me. You can find out more about her on her site http://www.hopeedelman.com/
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