Mommy Guilt

There is this phenomenon that I like to call Mommy Guilt. It is this weird thing where you feel guilty all the time for all sorts of different things. I think mommies are expected to be perfect and when we don't measure up, we feel guilty. It can be real or false guilt (real being things we should feel guilty for and false being things that we shouldn't feet guilty about). I think all people feel guilty for things, and sometimes with good reason, but it is 1,000 times worse when you are a mommy.

For example, during my second pregnancy, I took Ib profin when I had strep throat and I feel an overwhelming sense of guilt about it, because what if that was part of the reason I miscarried. Or maybe if I had gotten my strep treated sooner, I wouldn't have miscarried. In all actuality, I think I miscarried because I had low progesterone and an underactive thyroid (also things I feel guilty for). False guilt.

Because I was convinced that I was infertile, Paul and I decided to buy a house that needed a little work to it. We bought a house that was foreclosed on that needed a lot of work. Not major foundational things, but things like, painting, cleaning, the floors needed either carpeting or the hardwood floors needed redone, the kitchen needed cabinets, etc. We bought the house and I finally had something to occupy my mind instead of being depressed over my miscarriage and the inability to have children. Except the same week we closed on the house was the week we found out I was pregnant! So, we have this great house with all this work that needs done, and I am too exhausted to do any of it. So we had to get help from others to do these things. Help that friends generously gave us and help that we had to hire. I felt guilty for all these things, because I felt like I should be the one to do everything, and was upset that I was too tired to do anything. The boys are currently 3 months old, and there are still boxes that need to be unpacked.

It is amazing how soon the fatigue starts when you are pregnant. To top that off, I had to get 4 shots a week of progesterone to maintain my pregnancy. And boy did those shots hurt! And they made me even more tired. At work, I would make a list of things to do when I got home, but after I got home from the doctor's, I would collapse on the couch too tired to do anything. It was enough to muster the energy to go upstairs to go to the bathroom. But I felt guilty for not getting this stuff done in preparation for when the babies would come. However, if I had known the lack of sleep I would get as a new mother, I don't think I would have felt as guilty about laying on the couch and resting! I also felt guilty for not getting in all of my veggies, but they made me nauseous! And I didn't exercise throughout my pregnancy like I had planned. I could barely walk, but I still felt guilty for not exercising.

I had a difficult pregnancy. I was constantly nauseaus, and that didn't subside until my third trimester. Like I mentioned before, I had low progesterone, so I was getting 4 shots a week. They were painful and it was hard to walk afterwards. On top of that, I had Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction. This is where the ligaments of my pelvic region were too loose causing my pelvis to shift out of place. I was in excruciating pain all of the time. Lying down was the worst, as was getting out of bed. I would have to stand in place for a few minutes before I could even walk, and then it was with crying and, at times, screaming. It was an awful time. Yet, ridiculously, I felt guilty for being unable to do things in this state. I don't think it helped that people put guilt on me. People would ask if my nursery was set up and when I said no, would say things like "If I were having twins, I would make sure everything was set up" or "You really need to get on that." It was subtle and people probably didn't mean to make me feel guilty, but unfortunately, I did.

At 33 weeks, I started to dialate and my cervix was thinning out. At 34 weeks, I was put on bedrest. That was awful for me, because, like I said earlier, lying down was impossibly painful. At 35 weeks, I was put on hospital bedrest, and they made sure I was lying down. At home, I spent my days in my recliner, which was somewhat comfortable. Hospital bedrest was horrible. I was losing it. The reason I went into the hospital was because I developed pre-eclampsia, which is high blood pressure, liver failure, etc., and apparently really dangerous. I didn't realize the seriousness of it, and kept pleading with the docs to let me go home. They said I had to stay until I gave birth. I wasn't due for another 5 weeks. I didn't think I could do that. They kept a close eye on me, and did blood tests several times daily. Once my liver started failing more, they were going to do a C-section. Once I reached 36 weeks, I willed my liver to fail. I wanted to get worse so they would take the babies. (Well, I really wanted to go into labor naturally, but because Matthew was breech, they would not allow me to try for a natural birth.) So, finally, I took a turn for the worse.

Matthew was born 11/10/09 at 8:04am, was 5 lb 14 oz. Andrew was born 11/10/09 at 8:05am and was 6 lb 11 oz. The C-section was terrifying. I remember being unable to breathe, being nauseaus, and freaking out. Once I heard Matthew crying, everything was ok, and I calmed down. However, apparently Andrew swallowed some amniotic fluid and wasn't crying well. So they had to take him to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). They paused long enough to touch his cheek to mine. And then he seemed to be doing better, so they took him to the recovery room with me. When the pediatrician came, he made the decision to send him to the NICU for the day. Here is the BIG guilt: I didn't ask to hold him before he left. I wanted to. I asked if I could hold one of them, and because they were taking Andrew away, they gave Matthew to me. I should have insisted on holding Andrew before he was taken away. Insisted on one minute to whisper that I loved him and would see him later. This is the guilt that I can't get rid of. I wonder if his stay would have been shorter had I held him. There is an amazing bond between mother and child and skin to skin contact, and I feel so guilty for not asking to hold him. I wonder if he would be less colicky if he hadn't spent 8 days in the NICU. Eight impossible days!

I wasn't allowed to see Andrew until I was able to get out of bed. I can tell you: I fought ridiculously hard to be able to get out of that bed. I did everything I could, and that evening, they finally let me go see him. They let me hold him skin to skin. Not very long, but I cherished those minutes (half hour, I think). They told me only 10 minutes, but let me hold him for longer. He was doing better the second day, but they wouldn't let me hold him, because his breathing was bad. He had chemical pneamonia, and later developed persistant pulminary hypertensive disorder. There were other things, but I can't remember them. I remember all the tubes coming out of him. And that IV they stuck in his head- ugh! Talk about heartbreak. I felt guilty anytime I wasn't with Andrew and guilty anytime I wasn't with Matthew. It was impossible. I had two babies to take care of and wanted to be with both of them 100% of the time, and yet, I constantly had to choose, and constantly felt guilty, no matter which child I was with. I know some of that was false guilt (ok, probably most), but some of it was real guilt too.

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death." Romans 8:1-2. I know that I condemn myself way more than I should. I am working on it. I have a lot of issues! I need to forgive myself for not being perfect, not allow others to make me feel guilty for making mistakes, and take my guilt and insecurities to God. It's easier said than done, but I am working on it!