Mom guilt
I feel like I'm in an abusive relationship...
except I'm the victim, but also the abuser.
I've been beating myself up.
I'm raising a difficult child, and while his behaviors are exhausting, it's the mom guilt that's smothering me.
The thing about parenting a child with a history of trauma is that you are dealing with a child who is deeply wounded by a lost relationship. He was mine for his first year of life before a judge ordered me to abandon him. And there's no way explain to your 11 month old foster son that his birth mom is safe and ready and that this very good news translates to a very hard goodbye. You can't explain it. You don't explain it. He just lives it, feels it, and stores the abandonment deep within himself.
My baby did come back to me six weeks later, but the relationship we have now couldn't be more different. The experts will tell you that kids who are wounded in relationship will only be healed through relationships, and particularly by developing a secure attachment to a new primary caregiver. The irony to his story is that I was the mother he lost, but I am also the mother he gained. I am the wound and the balm. And he treats me accordingly. He emotionally lashes out because I trigger the wound, but then also clings to me to heal him. It is exhausting to parent.
Last night I saw this meme on facebook:
I'm sure it was designed to inspire, but all I could think is, I can. I can totally imagine not going above and beyond. My son is in a pit and half the time when I try to help him out, he strikes at me like a snake. I'm so tired of being bit. I'm not a Kamikaze parent.
Years ago, one of my older boys was struggling with attachment issues, but it was different for me then. We had really hard days, for sure, but I could easily be re-inspired to re-group and stay the course. My theme song was "Home " by Philip Phillips- lines like: "Hold on to me as we go...I'm gonna make this place your home... don't pay no mind to the demons that fill you with fear...If you get lost you can always be found," were enough to keep me motivated, hopeful, and confident. I could keep fighting for him, for us, for our relationship. I had to, because it was, after all, the thing that could heal him.
Back then it was all about "I can do this. I've got this. I am his mother." But this time it's different.
This time I say things like: I'm not enough. The wounds are deeper. The cross is too heavy. I can't do it. Our relationship can't be the answer. I can't be his answer. I don't want to be his answer. It's too hard.
My honest cries are followed by an immeasurable amount of guilt. What mother says to her child: You are too hard, I don't want to help you. I'm choosing myself over you.
It's hard to face the darkness in yourself. It's hard to believe you are capable of such selfishness, such anger. I went looking for a new song to help me release it and I found the perfect one.
The rhythm is soothing. But the words are holy. And Holy can redeem the weightiest of guilts. Enjoy.
except I'm the victim, but also the abuser.
I've been beating myself up.
I'm raising a difficult child, and while his behaviors are exhausting, it's the mom guilt that's smothering me.
The thing about parenting a child with a history of trauma is that you are dealing with a child who is deeply wounded by a lost relationship. He was mine for his first year of life before a judge ordered me to abandon him. And there's no way explain to your 11 month old foster son that his birth mom is safe and ready and that this very good news translates to a very hard goodbye. You can't explain it. You don't explain it. He just lives it, feels it, and stores the abandonment deep within himself.
My baby did come back to me six weeks later, but the relationship we have now couldn't be more different. The experts will tell you that kids who are wounded in relationship will only be healed through relationships, and particularly by developing a secure attachment to a new primary caregiver. The irony to his story is that I was the mother he lost, but I am also the mother he gained. I am the wound and the balm. And he treats me accordingly. He emotionally lashes out because I trigger the wound, but then also clings to me to heal him. It is exhausting to parent.
Last night I saw this meme on facebook:
I'm sure it was designed to inspire, but all I could think is, I can. I can totally imagine not going above and beyond. My son is in a pit and half the time when I try to help him out, he strikes at me like a snake. I'm so tired of being bit. I'm not a Kamikaze parent.
Years ago, one of my older boys was struggling with attachment issues, but it was different for me then. We had really hard days, for sure, but I could easily be re-inspired to re-group and stay the course. My theme song was "Home " by Philip Phillips- lines like: "Hold on to me as we go...I'm gonna make this place your home... don't pay no mind to the demons that fill you with fear...If you get lost you can always be found," were enough to keep me motivated, hopeful, and confident. I could keep fighting for him, for us, for our relationship. I had to, because it was, after all, the thing that could heal him.
Back then it was all about "I can do this. I've got this. I am his mother." But this time it's different.
This time I say things like: I'm not enough. The wounds are deeper. The cross is too heavy. I can't do it. Our relationship can't be the answer. I can't be his answer. I don't want to be his answer. It's too hard.
My honest cries are followed by an immeasurable amount of guilt. What mother says to her child: You are too hard, I don't want to help you. I'm choosing myself over you.
It's hard to face the darkness in yourself. It's hard to believe you are capable of such selfishness, such anger. I went looking for a new song to help me release it and I found the perfect one.
The rhythm is soothing. But the words are holy. And Holy can redeem the weightiest of guilts. Enjoy.
posted by Christina at
5:53 PM
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