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Breaking Down
I witnessed a mother breaking down today. She lost it in front of eight children, three mothers and a teacher. Frustration, anger, and tears burst from a veneer of composure. She was living beyond her limit, pushed to an edge that I recognized immediately. I was on the other side of the classroom when it happened, picking up my son. Tentatively I walked over to where she stood, listening to her as she talked and cried about her baby-how much she and her husband had wanted him, and what a challenge he had been since he was born. Now he was a busy eight month-old, full of opinions and energy. His fighting spirit often felt too much for her to handle. When he was an infant, his temperament was equally challenging. Perhaps he cried a lot and only slept a little. Perhaps he was a picky eater. Perhaps his perpetual fussiness made it difficult for her to feel as though she was doing a good job.
Guilt ridden, she needed us to listen. She needed to know that she was not alone with her fears and frustration. One mother looked shocked at first, unsure how to respond to her sudden emotion. We’re not usually called to help one another in this sort of real way. We say our hellos and good-byes every morning, but rarely are we called to lend a strong shoulder. There is a mythology about motherhood that is perpetuated when we pretend always to have it under control. We see other mothers whose clothes are ironed, whose kids are well behaved, whose cars are cleaner. Their countenance seems calmer than ours, and we secretly long for their skill. Today I realized that one of the mothers I’ve admired is just as human as I am. Maybe she believed that we had answers that she was lacking. The truth is we’re all struggling, trying to do our best. None of us is that perfect mother in the sky.
So how do we know our efforts are not going to waste, especially when our child’s behavior doesn’t meet our expectations? The effects of our hard work might take years to realize, but there are flashes of breakthrough along the way. You’ve seen it when you expect it least. A strong-willed ten-month-old lovingly kisses her doll, patting it on the back and wrapping it in a blanket. A six-week-old infant with a penchant for screaming smiles at his parents for the first time. We need to remain aware and cherish these moments when they occur. They are signposts, encouraging us to persevere in spite of the difficulties.
Of course, a mother needs more than mere moments. She needs a friend to lean on in the trying times. We all know those times; they occur daily. What good does it do us to pretend that they don’t? Opportunities to reach out to other mothers present themselves all of the time. On airplanes, tired mothers walk up and down aisles with crying babies. Could we offer our arms if they’re free for a few minutes? In grocery stores, mothers push demanding children in carts packed with a week’s worth of food. Could we pass along an encouraging comment, or at least a smile of sympathy? Although our lives might be just as busy, it takes very little to help, encourage, and support.
Motherhood is not a walk in the park, nor is it an eighteen-year sentence. It is a lot like running a marathon. You have to pace yourself, and you have to be in good condition to see the race through. You also need people handing you water along the way.
Read our Review of the book, "The Mother's Book of Well-Being: Caring for Yourself So You Can Care for Your Baby!"
Copyright © Lisa Groen Braner. Lisa is an author, wife, and mother of two. "Breaking Down" is an excerpt from her first book, The Mother's Book of Well-Being: Caring for Yourself So You Can Care for Your Baby. For more information on Lisa and her book, please visit her website. Reprinted with permission.
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