rambling reflections on mothering: vulnerability and fears

As I approach two years of mothering, I am often taken aback by how emotionally vulnerable I feel at times.

It's not unusual for me to reach over in the middle of the night and feel for the rise and fall of her little chest as she breathes.  Still.


There are times that my mind wanders down that path of "what if?", and I catch myself shuddering at thoughts of harm coming to my little one.  For example, when we've gone to the Outer Banks the last two years and found ourselves on extended ferry rides, I have insisted to Mike that both he and I, should we wish to have Claire out and about on the ferry deck, must wear her in a carrier.  No running around and sitting on the railing funny business with my baby.  I thought about it over and over before we went, imagining what would happen if for some reason we were careless for a moment and she fell into the water.......  just typing it now gives me chills.  We are not parents who hover over her at playgrounds or while we are out hiking in the woods or playing by the creek.  Yes, we are cautious and aware of where she is and what she is doing, but generally we let her explore and test the waters on her own a good bit.  But a ferry....... well, certainly no testing of those waters.

As I watch her grow and her personality develop and see her becoming a little person, my respect for her grows so much.  Not that I didn't respect her before, but somehow now that she is older, it's different.  Somehow now when she is frustrated or upset because of this or that, I feel empathy for her on a whole new level.  Like she's really one of us, just trying to get by and figure out this world and such.  When I see her hurt- either physically or emotionally, I can feel it.  Not little surface wound type things, but the real pain and the real sadness.... it gets me.  I hurt for her.  And it's usually then that I think back about so many things my mother told me when I was younger, or pregnant- things about how I'd feel about my own child.  How I'd worry, how intensely I'd love, fears that may come up, that feeling of having your heart outside of your body.....  And here I am.

All mothers, for all time, know/have known those feelings.  They connect you instantly to mothers everywhere.  I've always felt close to my own mother, but becoming a mother myself strengthened that connection so much for me and has made me so very aware of just how much she has done for me.  I don't even know if she knows that.  I try to express it, but maybe not often enough.

We all want so many things for our children.  To protect them and make them happy.  And to give them all of the tools we can in order for them to go out into the world and find happiness on their own as adults, since it isn't really something that anyone else can give you.

I want her to be happy.
I know she won't always be.

I want her to never have to know intense pain or grief,
but I know she will.

I want her to know how loved she is and to never question it, though I'm sure she will.

I want her to find more joy and love and peace in the world than disappointment and anger and hate.

To have more reasons to trust people and the world in general than reasons not to.

I want these things for her and so, so much more.




We go to the playground and she climbs up things that I'm not sure she's quite ready for yet.  Those serpentine metal bar ladder-y type things........  Usually I spot her the whole time, sometimes I look over and catch her half way up and then go running over (trying not to let my fear show) to spot her the rest of the way.  I wonder.... "would she be okay if she fell?"

There are so many places for fear and a sense of inadequacy to arise in the daily act of mothering a child.  "What if she falls/chokes?"  "What if I react poorly?"  "What if X?"  "What if Y"  "What if Z?"

I'm starting to think that mothering, full of lessons as it is, is, aside from a lesson in love, mostly a lesson in letting go and trusting.  Letting go of fears and worries and feelings that you aren't 'this' enough or 'that' enough, for you, your child, your partner; letting go of the 'what ifs' and 'shoulds'.  Trusting in yourself and in whatever or whoever you call upon when the going gets tough.  Trusting that what you do is enough.  What you say is enough.  The things that you offer your child- all of the time and energy and love and sacrifice, is enough.

I've been reading Buddhism for Mothers by Sarah Napthali and finding so much wisdom and comfort in it's pages.  Some of the things I've read seem obvious.  Others, though simple, strike me as quite profound.  And very freeing.  In reading some of these, it's almost as if I can feel many of my fears and feelings of inadequacy in mothering float away.  I've still got a bit to read, love it as I do I've been puttering along slowly with it, having already renewed it from the library 4 (!) times.  I'm like that with nonfiction sometimes, even if it's something I really like.  I plan to finish it up and record my favorite passages here sometime in the next week or so.  So I'll always know right where they are when I need them.

Think I'll jot a few down and put them up around the house as well.

(maybe I should just buy the darn thing, it's probably only $10 or so.... hadn't really thought of that....)



Mothering.

Wow.