The guilt is real, folks. And it’s rearing it’s ugly head at this very inconvenient time.
We all struggle, in one way or another, especially now. This weird Covid-19, “rona” thing happening is affecting us all. We’re all on high anxiety, antsy, when is this going to end mode and it’s manifesting in each of us in such different ways.
Some of us feel the anxiety part more than anything else. I’m raising my hand. I’ve learned over the last few years that my anxiety likes to show in more physical ways. Sometimes I feel like I want to take deep breaths, sometimes I can’t sit still, sometimes I feel like I need to take a break from wearing my glasses (this one is weird, but it happens. Why does it happen? I have no idea). Sometimes my anxiey is a result of feeling like I need to cry, a way to release the anxiety. So I’ll have a good cry and my anxiety slowly settles down. The unknown of this new covid life combined with having anxiety to begin with, is making for some interesting times.
For others, and I’ll raise my hand for this one as well, the antsy bugs are at an all time high. I never realized how much driving to and from work, or being able to shop at Target whenever I wanted was such a stress reliever. Freedom at it’s finest.
So here is where the guilt comes in, at this very inconvenient time.
I am a mother who has lost a child, I think we all know this by now. My first born child who was, and still is, my world. He is a part of my every day life, whether it’s thoughts, stories, or tears. I would do ANYTHING to have the situation changed, to have him growing up with his brother, to have him with me. I yearn to be stuck in this quarantine life with both of my boys, four of us with nowhere to go, nowhere to be except with each other.
That will never happen.
So, when the moments come (the MANY moments throughout these “new normal” days) when I am working on my computer, now at home on my kitchen table, and Quinlan’s little brother comes up to me, blabbering away in his baby talk with a “mama” thrown in for cuteness, and I have to say “I love you, but please go play” the guilt I feel is REAL. I should be squeezing him and kissing him every second of every day because the fear of losing another child is also real. And when I can’t because of work, or chores, or whatever else comes with being and adult, it breaks my heart.
*Please know that I fully understand this comes with being a mom to any and all children, I am not minimizing that fact. I only know this type of guilt so it’s what I’m able to speak about.*
I was talking to a new friend about this issue, a friend who was brought into my life because she also lost her child, and she brought up a very relevant point. She said that it’s almost like we are expected to love our living children even more because we have experienced the loss of another child. But then in thinking about that, who is saying that we are “expected” to be doing this? Society, friends, family, other’s in the loss community? Nope. It is us, the loss mom’s who are putting extreme pressure on ourselves. We feel like we have to devote every single second of our lives to our living children, and more importantly, not complain because we are so incredibly lucky to have children that we can kiss and hug whenever we want. And yes, I do feel beyond lucky, and feel like I have been saved by our youngest child. But damn, that’s a lot of pressure to put on ourselves.
So, while it’s easier said than done, we need to not feel that guilt. We have to know that we are going to have the frustrations just like every mom, the moments (many, many moments) where saying “I love you, but leave me alone” is necessary. No guilt!
Maybe it’s because we have the love for our living child combined with the love for our child who has passed built up inside of us. Yet our day to day lives only allow us to be able to share that love with our living children, to hug, kiss and squeeze as much as entirely possible. As a result, they get it all when that love was designed to be shared with all of your children. That is one of the incredibly messed up parts of having lost a child.
Or maybe it’s because this is such an unnatural situation to be in, that no one really knows how we are supposed to live our day to day lives. So there is guilt, there are kisses, there is lots of pressure, and lots and lots of love.