Happy Winter Solstice! And yay!!! Laura went into labor today!!
A friend recently mentioned to me in observation, not criticism, that despite what is going on with Bella’s skin (health problem) I seem to be handling it in stride. On some levels, I would agree. That would be on the surface and the level slightly below. On a level slightly below slightly below the surface, I am racked with guilt and grief.
In the most darkest moments, there are times when I wonder if having a second baby was the best choice for me. I imagine how easy life would be right now if I only had Max to care for and love. I get agitated when I hear Bella scratching because I know there is nothing I can do to make the itch go away. I get angry when awakened in the middle of the night by her fussing because I believe if her skin health wasn’t compromised that both she and I would be sleeping blissfully through the night (something I have not experienced since my third trimester of pregnancy with Max, three years ago). I get so depressed because it feels like I am doing so much for her… and I just wish she would heal already. All this makes me feel guilty. It makes me feel like a horrible person. A self centered woman.
I have to question why I feel so bad for just acknowledging HOW I FEEL. I mean, I not only experience these difficult-to-acknowledge emotions, but I feel an incredibly deep well of love for Bella, a bottomless well. On the deepest of levels, I always feel a magical love for her. It is what motivates and guides me. If this connection wasn’t present, I don’t think I could be doing all that I am for her skin.
Going on a rant because I have been reading, “Gyn/Ecology: The Metaethics Of Radical Feminism,” a book that was recently [timely] given to me…
There is a creepy myth that has been created by men that mothers should always happily be self-sacrificing and loving towards their children. That if we utter any dissatisfaction with our children [if we speak of our real experiences with mothering] that we are dooming/hurting ourselves, and more importantly to the emotive power of the myth – our children. I think the internalization of this myth is self imposed martyrdom, self hatred, and the constant guilt of not living up to the myth. Or worst, isolation from other mothers while feeling that in order to relate we have to have the same parenting philosophies.
The lack of a safe space to speak honestly of our full spectrum of experiences with mothering only tangles us even tighter to the irrationality of the myth by giving us a motive to deceive ourselves and others about our true experiences. It is a vicious cycle of abiding by a standard that wasn’t even created by mothers.
It is important to me to have the space to speak of my true experiences with mothering. I have worked hard to surround myself with powerful women who can hear and speak of the truth. I feel strongly that all women are able to speak their truth if given a safe space to do so. It makes me angry that it is so much work to create these bonds with other women. And yes, I blame patriarchy for this difficulty. I blame men.
About Bella again…
I am not an altruistic person by nature [I don't believe anyone is] yet doing what I am doing for Bella is an act of altruism. The fact is, NO ONE can do for Bella what I am doing for her. The fact is, I have to do it without hearing her praise and I have to do it alone – the same as I gave birth to her alone. The fact is, I can not do it with a smile on my face.
I drift in and out of resentment towards Bella’s skin (this often mixes with resentment towards Bella). I really need to not waste to much time feeling guilty for this. This resentment I have felt is temporary. When she looks up at me with her big almond-shaped brown eyes, I know her love and my anger is reminded of my love – it happens this way all the time.
Being a mama is such a bag of mixed goodies.
PS: BaoBao’s skin is improving. Slowly, but still improving.