Mothering and Mourning

Dear Mom,

It's always on peaceful quiet nights like tonight that my thoughts turn to you. I find myself thinking about you often. especially being a new mother. Just today as my baby cried and cried, I cried with him and I felt helpless to do anything to ease his discomfort. I felt an overwhelming feeling of incompetence and helplessness. How I want so badly to know what is wrong and how to fix it. How many times am I going to have to helplessly watch him suffer? I feel like a terrible mother and wonder how I was trusted with such an awesome responsibility without having the slightest idea of what I'm doing. What if I totally mess up my child because I don't know any better? It will be a miracle if he survives.

 I think I might have spent the better half of my adult life blaming you for things that happened in my  childhood that "messed me up". It's so easy, without any experience or understanding, to find fault and a scapegoat in your parents for your problems.  I only weighed 15 lbs. at 1 year of age when I was diagnosed with Failure to Thrive. I've thought,  "How could you not see there was a problem? How could you have been such a poor mother to allow me to be malnourished?"How could you not know that I needed to feel loved and not abandoned so desperately that I clung to you every moment possible- not walking until 18 months of age. How could you not see and relieve the distress I was in? How could you allow an innocent child to suffer? How could you have not known? And now, as a mother, I understand. And I feel an overwhelming sense of shame.

I think it's more than coincidence that I've had to struggle with Levi's weight and feeding. My child, born at barely 6 lbs and 3 weeks early, immediately started losing weight. I didn't realize it was because he wasn't latching on or drinking my breast milk for several days. He lost over 10% of his body weight and we had to take him to the hospital every day and have him sit under lights to help his premature systems to function. That was my fault. How could I have not known? Because of my weakness my body couldn't hold him until full term and perhaps he'll suffer the consequences his entire life. As he cries and cries and cries now, I worry about him being hungry and not getting enough to eat from me and his small little fragile body.

He's had problems keeping his food down the last few days and it comes out both ends. It's the saddest thing in the world to watch your baby cry with hunger. He cries and fusses and I try everything to fix it but sometimes I just can't. And I sit and watch helplessly as he suffers, and wonder if one day he will blame me for my incompetence that made him needlessly suffer. He has a right to, he was entrusted to my care- and he trusts me to care for him. I feel tremendous sadness when he looks at me with those sad eyes saying- why can't you make it better? And then in 18 years maybe he'll begrudge me for it and hate me for messing him up. He would have the right and I would deserve it. Mercilessly. Without understanding. Until he has children.

Oh how I wish you were here to ask for your forgiveness. I know now that you did the best that you could, and that is all that anyone could hope for. That I was born into an incredible home with two loving parents and that gives me the advantage over at least half of all children. You taught me the gospel and loved the Lord. You always tried to do the right thing and be the kind of wife and mother you were supposed to. You loved us and provided warmth and shelter and food and fun and love. You loved everyone, without condition. You took in the outcast, you looked upon the beggar with compassion, you gave a home to all who entered our house. Now I know.

 Now I know the overwhelming responsibility and simultaneous sense of incompetence of being a parent and how you do the best you can but sometimes you mess up in big ways. And the guilt is overwhelming. Now I know. Now I know that you gave up everything for me- every hour of every day with rocking and feeding and clothing and bathing. For years. I was your everything- your purpose in life, your joy, your sadness, and I had no idea. You gave up your life for me, and all you got in return was begrudging for your weaknesses and imperfections. Instead of returning to you gratitude, love and kindness, you got love at arms length with an added measure of condescension and condemnation for your mistakes.

I'm sorry mom. I have a feeling the next 30 years of my life will be an extended period of change of heart toward you, and mourning that  I was too late to tell you in person. I wish you were here, now that I am beginning to understand your heart.

But I guess in a sense you are, every day as I walk in your footsteps every minute of every hour. When I've felt in the past we had nothing in common, I often feel now you are the only one I have everything in common with and would understand. Perhaps this is the road to healing and repentance that I needed. Every hour of every day as I embark on a journey that I know nothing about and think of the only mothering I've known, my heart is turned to you. Perhaps there was no other way that I would be willing to give up my anger and self-righteousness to look at you with mercy and love. It's just so painful not to have you here. To tell you I'm sorry, to surrender my pride and open my heart to you. That I was too late. I hope one day to ask for your forgiveness and have a fresh start.

Thank you for giving your whole life for me, without the thanks or warm relationship with your daughter you waited your whole life for. It's something I'll always regret that I was too late for. Maybe there will be a chance for us again on the other side. It's what I pray for. And that my children, in addition to seeing my weaknesses will also have mercy and compassion for me.

Love you mom.

Nicole