July 26, 2006
Motherhood Crazies
I sometimes feel like a mediocre mother. I can’t really explain this feeling very well.
It’s more like “I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-therefore-I-fake-it-because -God-forbid-if-I-admit-this-or-ask-for-help” kind of thing.
I always knew I wanted children. Since the day I turned 12 years old, I knew it. My mother had four children. My brother Frankie and I are 12 years apart and I was like a second mother to him. I helped my mom whenever I could. I changed diapers, I gave him his bottle, I sometimes rocked him to sleep. He was like a live doll. I loved being his “Ada” (that’s what he’d call me when he couldn’t say “Dana”).
When I was in high school, I used to be slightly jealous of the girls who became pregnant. Don’t take that the wrong way. It’s not that I wished I could have had a baby at 17, I envied them for having the courage to give birth, to become mothers, to care for a child they created. I know it sounds crazy. I know how difficult it must have been to be a young single mom. If I’d have become pregnant that young, I’m sure it would be a different story. I would have panicked. I’d have been scared. My parents would have killed me.
A friend of mine got pregnant at 17 and I remember helping her pick out baby names, baby clothes, nursery furniture. Her parents really didn’t care about the fact that their youngest daughter was having a baby. They had had Jackie at a young age and later separated. Jackie’s mom was known as the town floozie. I know that’s a horrible stereotype, but she didn’t exactly set good examples for her daughters. Jackie’s older sister had a baby at 16 that she gave up for adoption (she now has 3 other kids that she decided to keep). It was a typical disfunctional family. But still, I was jealous. I couldn’t wait to be a mother. I dreamt about the day I graduated college, got married and start a family. Notice, I didn’t dream about being a working mom. Funny how fantasy and reality differ.
When I met my husband and we started dating, he became well aware of my desire to have babies. Lots and lots of babies. I wanted five kids. Doug joked that I only said that because I wanted to out do my own mother who had four children. I think it had a lot to do with coming from a huge family. My aunts each had four/five/six kids, my mom was the oldest of seven and my dad was the youngest of nine. It was all I knew. I couldn’t imagine having just one child. What if he was a spoiled only child? We can’t have that! I wanted this imaginary future baby to have lots of siblings! It’s amazing that Doug didn’t leave my nutty ass right then and there!
After we got married, Doug and I discussed having a baby “right away!” I was ready. Mentally. Physically, my body was not. Fertility problems arose in droves. I wasn’t ovulating. I had PCOS. I had ovarian cysts. I had the beginning signs of endometriosis. I didn’t get a period for 19 months. Numerous visits to my ob/gyn were heart wrenching for me. I was told so many different things. Change my diet. Exercise more. Have more sex (no objections from Doug there!). Take my temperature. Keep and ovulation chart. Buy these stupid ovulation sticks that you pee on. The list goes on and on. After a 9 months of trying I was finally put on Clomid which is a fertility drug. I was warned of the high risk of conceiving twins, triplets and the like. But not once in the 9 months of taking the drug did I get pregnant. I was to take these pills for a year. But I gave up. I decided that I didn’t want children anymore. I was frustrated. I was sad. I was angry.
I started to ignore my desire for a baby by replacing it with a desire to lose weight. I started the Atkins diet in September of 2003. I lost 40 pounds in 3 months. In January of 2004, I gained 10 pounds out of the blue. I didn’t get my period. I was pregnant. It was like the floodgates opened and all my tears poured out. I was never so happy in my life. I couldn’t wait for this baby to be born. Nine months felt like nine years.
I had a rough pregnancy. Pre-eclampsia caused 8 weeks of bedrest. It was a difficult time for me. After I was induced, two weeks early, and Dawson arrived — I was at a loss for words. Emotions overwhelmed me. Who was this alien in my arms? Now what do I do? What happened to all those big plans I had made in high school to be the best mom ever? Why didn’t those reassuring feelings of “I’ll just know what I’m doing appear?” Didn’t they arrive sometime? If so, when?
It’s funny that I made it through nipple soreness, nursing woes and uterine cramping. No one ever told me about that crap. And I managed to figure out that when the navel falls off, I don’t have to freak out. But now, Dawson is no longer a “baby” anymore. He’s a toddler. A demanding, howling, shrieking little boy. He wants what he wants when he wants it. And I have to admit: He gets that shit from me.
So why do I feel guilty when I get frustrated at my son? Why do I get irritated when he demands Lucky Charms, only eats the marshmallows out of the bowl and throws the rest to the dog? Why do I have the urge to spank his behind when he kicks said dog in the face? What if I’m a bad mom? What if other moms are so good at disciplining their child without guilt?
Some days, I want to run away from him. And I hate that thought. This is that precious boy I’ve waited an eternity for. I love that little shit more than my own life. But yet, he drives me insane! Please tell me I’m not losing my mind. I really do feel like it’s too late, that my mind vanished when I pushed that 7 pound meatloaf out of my oven. Dear God, is this just a test? To see how well I deal with motherhood? Are you testing my patience? Are you and Dawson in cahoots?
Did I just say cahoots? See what I mean? It’s one of those I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-therefore-I-freak-out-because-I-just-may-be-losing-my-mind-and-I-want-you-all-to-know-it” kind of things.
Posted by Dana @ 2:57 pm • Uncategorized
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July 26th, 2006 at 6:09 pm, Mom101 Says:
Why? Because you’re human. We have short-term memories. I mean, who after 9/11 thought they’d ever complain about airline security again and yet I hear it on the metal detector linies every damn time I fly. Terrible analogy but still… you’re human. Same point. You are entitled to have your complaints just as you’re entitled to still love your little guy. Guilt be gone!
July 26th, 2006 at 7:40 pm, clair Says:
Funny that you should mention it. I just had one of ‘those’ episodes yesterday with my 10yo daughter pushing my patience to the limits. After I screamed at her, I went on a guilt trip. To “de-guilt”, I think about all those times when I’ve been the best mom I could be. Best, not perfect.
July 27th, 2006 at 8:29 am, mommaobrienx7 Says:
Dana
I could SO relate with your post. I have been wanting to write a little on mommy guilt myself but when I try to I draw a blank. You did a wonderful job. Your honesty is refreshing. Motherhood is this amazing roller coaster where one minute we are filled to the brim with love for our sweet little “angels”, and the next minute we want to lock them in their playpens and have a margarita to calm our nerves. You are a great mom - don’t beat yourself up over those times when you are just plain fed up. IT’S OKAY to be fed up sometimes. We’re still human, even if we are mothers.
July 27th, 2006 at 9:00 am, Guinevere Says:
Been there, done that! You’ve earned the right to vent and question everything!
But, in all the chaos and insanity, you’re a mommy with a beautiful little boy who loves you and has no concept of life without you.
Take heart, sister, we’re all in this together! :o)
July 27th, 2006 at 9:05 am, Brighton Says:
I have been there and done that four times now. I can tell you that the age of 3 is far worse for boys than the age of 2. I can also say that I spanked the hell out of my kids- and it worked. Swift punishment, because we all know you cannot verbally reason with a small terrorist. Keep your chin up your doing fine, listen to your gut and it will be over before you know it. Good luck!
July 27th, 2006 at 9:32 am, Dana Says:
Thank you ALL for the good advice and reassurance! I honestly don’t know what I would do without wonderful friends like you ladies!
I sometimes felt I was losing my mind and that if I admit that, it will come true! It’s nuts. I guess that’s a good thing. =)
July 27th, 2006 at 11:45 am, Hothousemomma Says:
So is the challenge of being a parent. This is a struggle for me as well. You have to discpline them or they will never have boundaries. Don’t get me wrong, sometime by hubby will punish him to the corner and it breaks my heart. I sometime think if we didn’t feel a little guilty about it, we would no the difference between right and wrong ourselves!
July 27th, 2006 at 1:01 pm, Amy Says:
We are all a bit insecure as new moms. What you’re feeling is normal! And yes, kids do drive us nuts … it’s just not politically correct to say so! I always LOVE my kids, but I don’t always LIKE them. Things settle down after a while, but it is never easy. The second or third time around, you’ll know what to expect, and be more expert at handling them. But they’ll still throw you for a loop because they’re all different.
Although I don’t know why you’d feel guitly about punishing your son. I’m probably the rare mom who has no bad feelings about it whatsoever. I figure, what’s hard today will make things easier in the long run. It’s important to establish control (order) in the early years, or you won’t be able to later. Society says one thing, but the Bible says another. And every parent has to deal with it, so consider yourself one of the masses!
July 27th, 2006 at 1:13 pm, Guinevere Says:
I agree with the moms talking about swift discipline…and you HAVE to discipline! :o) My kids are now 15 and 13 (daughter, A, turns 14 tomorrow) and, so far, every adult who has met them and talked to them has come back later and told me how impressed they are with them…that they are so well-mannered and pleasant for teenagers. I want to say, “Not without a lot of hard work and discipline way back when, honey!” lol
July 27th, 2006 at 2:24 pm, Dana Says:
HHMomma, I am nodding my head. When Doug punishes Dawson he usually gives hime a time out to his crib. Dawson cries and I cry in the bathroom because I feel like it’s mean. When I punish him or discipline him, I usually swat him on the diaper. Not too hard but enough for emphasis. I feel guilty. I didn’t want to be a mom who spanks. I grew up in that household and I hated it. But sometimes I just can’t reason with Dawson. Why is it so different between Daddy and Mommy? UGH.
Amy, I guess I just hate being the “bad guy”. I know I’m a good mom, I just wish I could believe it sometimes. It’s so scary when I don’t know HOW to handle a situation and then I freak out that I may be making the wrong choice. I have to get over that I suppose.
Guinevere, I’m trying to get the discipline under control. It’s really hard! =)