Confessions
In nearly every situation with which I am confronted, my immediate internal response is one of childlike petulance, defiance, selfish, hot tears and 'why me'.
*****
I read PeaSoup's confessions today and so much of it (ie #6 - #5 made me giggle) resonated with me and Oscar the sorrow was overwhelming. There have been so many occasions where I have had to step back and simply love my child. In particular:
And lo it was terribly scary and saddening but oh my giddy aunt everything fell into place and I learnt about triggers and I also stopped hating his behaviour and hating myself and thinking I had made my child this way.and
Guilt for not being a better parent to him when he was at the outer edge of the ‘normal’ spectrum. Guilt for all those years of wanting him to be firmly within that ‘normal’ circle. Guilt for not finding the courage to accept him for who he was but always pushing him to be what I wanted him to be.because I couldn't say it any better than Suse did. And that while I too have been there with that guilt, I am still so in the very thick of it. That at the moment, while I love him so much it brings tears to my eyes as it is this instant, I don't like him very much at the moment. He is older and we're in the midst of a whole new behaviour shift. I have to adjust my parenting once more and as I said upfront, my instant reaction is one of "I don't wanna". That this is too hard, too isolating, ageing, emotionally draining, so deeply worrying in that "what will become of him" way that permeates my daily existence that sometimes I want 'it' (not Oscar, obviously - but another thing so hard to explain), to all go away, and instead be the person grieving a lost dead child than a lost living one. And the guilt, and the shame of it makes me recoil from myself.
posted by KPB at 4/17/2006 09:31:00 pm
12 Comments:
You are so honest, you shame me.
The Ogga boy - little that I see him - has only added to our life over here. But I know, how I know, what you mean by the choice of mourning. And how well you say it.
Oh Kim; all of us as parents feel this way at times. And those of us who parent the more difficult children hate ourselves for feeling this way and harbor terrible guilt. Parenting the more normal doesn't seem to carry this burden of "I need to be more a more perfect parent" guilt. It's not like you get more skills handed to you when you get this challenge. And digging to find the skills (and strength) isn't easy or fun.
I so admire that you and PeaSoup can tell what it's like to live this life. How much we are all missing by this chance of parenting, and also how many gifts we are handed by having a unique child. Most days I bless the gift; but many days I scream and curse silenty instead "WHY ME? WHY HIM?"
Big hug to you. You're a supermom. And very brave.
In some bizarre twisted payback logic for actually putting out there that dark corner of my heart, I had a dream that the authorities came to reclaim Felix for his real parents in country NSW and that "oh that's right, he is a foster child" - a fact I had somehow forgotten in my dream.
It seriously took until I was in that half dreaming half waking state to realise and remember - NO! WAIT! He is mine...
eughhhh. and so the week begins...
Oh, this is a tough one. I think you said it beautifully Vickee.
Kim, you sound like a wonderful mother and all your boys want is your love and your support and I know they get both.
(Thanks so much Kim and Bec for your lovely comments wishing my sick daughter well. She's home and fine now :) )
You explain it all beautifully. Every parent feels guilt, no matter what the situation is. I'd be saying 'don't wanna' too. Actually, I do say 'don't wanna' sometimes anyway. Sometimes I don't like mine much either, no matter how much I love him. We're all human.
I think you're the best parent he could possibly have.
and then you have a night like tonight, where I get home and Oscar crumples into tears and just wants cuddles because he's missed me. And then is JUST DIVINE.
And Felix, for probably the first time in his life, falls asleep on the lounge at 6.30pm, wakes up for a cuddle, then just transfers to bed.
Kharma!
Oh Kim, I really hesitated about posting my confession, cos #1 is pretty 'normal' these days and I sound so petty and immature moaning about how I damaged him and screamed at him and thought about how his weirdness reflected on ME. Cos I know you and others (ie. Badger I now know) are REALLY dealing with it and will continue to have to deal with it, when we only scratched the surface.
And THAT's my guilt, for feeling so pathetically grateful that he IS ok and I don't have to do the 'why me?' whine any more.
And of course the monumental guilt that I find him easier to love now he fits in with the world.
I wish I could whoosh to Sydney and give you a great big fat sloppy kiss.
Bec? Where did your post after this one go? Did Blogger eat it?
i got embarrassed and took it down again, but then I read your email this morning so will probably re-post it...ack!
I find it really difficult to comment on posts like this. It takes me a couple of days to mull it over, think about things and then decide what to write. I don't want to sound trite, but I never have any consoling words, or words of wisdom. Just reading all these honest posts blows my mind.
I had to giggle when I read your first paragraph about being petulant when confronted. That describes me *exactly*. An almost-40 year old child. With absolutely no reason to be that way.
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