Category: empathy

Surgeries, Knee-Scooters, and a Case of the Flu

EricaLeave a comment

*This is one of those posts where I started writing it a few weeks ago, and I finished it today… sorry in advance for the possibly confusing timeline*

As I write this, my son is playing in his room right now, having no-so-quiet “quiet time.” He’s having a tea party with his stuffed animals, pretending to be their mother – I don’t want to forget these sweet times and memories.

It’s a Sunday afternoon, it’s been an interesting weekend that started out with my husband getting sick and potentially having the flu – so, most of our weekend has involved just staying at home.

At the initial time of writing this, I was almost 3 weeks post-surgery – I had surgery on my foot to reconstruct my fallen arch – it included 4 incisions (3 on my foot, one on my calf) and 2 bone grafts. I am not allowed to put weight on my foot for about 5-6 weeks after surgery, so needless to say it’s been a bit harder for me to do my typical activities.

Yesterday when my husband told me he was sick – initially my stomach dropped. He has been my rock while I’ve been recovering from surgery – he’s taken our son to and from daycare every day, he’s dropped me off at work (my first week back was last week), he’s done all the driving/errands… I quickly recovered from the shock and told myself that my time of rest and recovery was over – it really was a noticeable shift in my mind. I had been comparing my husband to my knight in shining armor the last few weeks, and now I was picking up my sword and shield, donning my own armor, for my family that needed me.

I had never actually gotten in and out of our car by myself yet post-surgery. My knee scooter presents a challenge, in that it’s hard for me to get it in and out of the car without help (especially when I can’t use one of my legs!) But, in the current desperate times, I decided it was time to figure it out. I did a test run – if I balanced my bad leg on the driver’s seat with the side door open, I could fold up my scooter and get it in the car without falling over. Success! I’ll admit, I was pretty proud of myself for my abilities and my level of self-sufficiency.

One of the many humbling lessons I’m learning from having surgery, is that just because you can do something by yourself, doesn’t mean you should, or that you can’t ask for help.

So, I did what any person (well, any over-achieving person struggling with pride) would do: I asked for help by not asking for help. I sent a message to a group of people from church and asked for prayers. I’m not implying that prayers were not appreciated or helpful – but secretly, what I really hoped was that someone would read between the lines of my request and say, “what can I do for you?”

And because I have some lovely and caring (and insightful) people in my life, that’s exactly what happened. And even then, it was still hard to voice what I needed. There’s vulnerability in asking – there’s a chance people will say no, and that it will hurt. Do people really want to spend their time and energy helping me? Am I worth it?

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When Your Kid is the “Only One” and You Feel Like a “Bad” Mom

EricaLeave a comment

This week has been hard – I was originally thinking “awful” which is also somewhat accurate, but obviously more negative. This week was our son’s first week back at daycare in two weeks because of the Christmas break – and our son has not handled it well. Most drop offs have ended with me walking away down the hallway, still hearing his screams as I exit the building. And it hasn’t just been screaming – he’s started running away from me and hitting when he doesn’t like something – he’s even begun to hit other people now if he’s extremely upset. 

My identity as a mom has been a bit shaken this week – I hate feeling like I can’t control my child (I hate not being in control of things in general…) I hate feeling like I’m the only one whose three-year-old has extreme tantrums anytime I try to leave him at daycare – those feelings of “what am I doing wrong?” begin to spring up, and I start convincing myself that everyone is judging me for being a “bad” parent.

I know my kid is a good kid, but I also know he is easily overwhelmed by people, loud noises, and changes to his routine. He used to tell me that he didn’t like daycare because “everyone said hello to him” – so I get it, he’s introverted, and that’s okay. Hitting, screaming, and throwing tantrums are not okay, however, as I have told my son numerous times this week in our heart-to-heart talks at the end of the day.   

I confided in a trusted friend this week about how I was struggling with mom guilt, how I was so tired of every day being a struggle for myself and my child – and she did exactly what I needed her to do, which was to speak words of truth to me, validate my feelings, and to remind me of the lies I was telling myself. Here’s part of a text she sent me yesterday:

“That is so hard, friend. It [my son’s behavior] feels like a reflection on you because you’re the mom – but really the reflection on you is that he’s a secure boy who knows he has a voice and feels comfortable and safe to express his frustration or anxiety…”

We talked about how his “bad” behavior was not being done maliciously, but the screaming and hitting were his way of trying to communicate that he felt unsafe, or scared, and that he really, REALLY was not happy. We talked about doing things to help validate my son’s feelings – saying things like, “I know this is hard for you and that you are not happy. You are safe. I will come back this afternoon to pick you up.” She reminded me that I was not alone, as I had convinced myself, and that many other parents were also struggling this week coming back from the holiday break. She reminded me that the people who might be labeling me a “bad” mom were not the people who mattered anyway.

Something else I also had to come to terms with this week was my pride. I realized that I was allowing my pride to either be puffed up, or totally flattened, by my son’s behavior. I came across this posted on a friend’s Facebook wall, and I felt like it was meant for me to see:  Screen Shot 2020-01-11 at 11.08.25 AMI want to be proud of my son when he does good things and when he overcomes his fears. But I don’t want to let his choices totally define me and make me feel secure or insecure about my abilities as a mother. But how often do we find ourselves thinking this way? We see a “badly” behaved kid (or sometimes more accurately, probably an emotionally overwhelmed kid) and we sometimes unfairly assume that the parents are just failing to do their job or put in the effort. Many times, as I can attest to, the parents are doing the best they can – and they’re tired and frustrated and feel helpless. 

So, where do I go from here? My husband and I have tried to be creative in how we attempt to get through this phase – one thing we have tried to start doing is dropping our son off earlier than normal to daycare, when there are fewer kids in the classroom (aka. creating a less overwhelming environment). The few days we have done it, things have been better – not perfect, but better. We want to strike a balance between validating our son’s feelings, allowing him a voice to say “no,” but still requiring him to be able to function in day to day life. It’s hard, I don’t always find the right balance – but I’ll keep trying. 

As always, my hope is that sharing this post will help at least one other person to not feel so alone. The author Brené Brown says that shame grows in us when we convince ourselves we’re alone and keep our struggles a secret. Shame is destroyed when we experience empathy from others – that moment when someone says “me too.” If you need another parent to say “me too,” I’m here for you.

Thanks for reading.

So You’ve Decided to Try to Get Pregnant… A Saga

Erica1 Comment

What does a woman go through when she decides she wants to try to have a baby?

I can only speak for myself, but in general, I would say she goes through a lot. Different women have all sorts of different journeys as they step into this process, but I thought I would chronicle my journey of trying for baby #2. It has helped me process my feelings, and perhaps will resonate with others on a similar journey. The following are journal entries of significant dates and events throughout this process – it was how I was feeling at the time, not right or wrong feelings, just feelings.
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7/15/19
Today is July 15, 2019. By the time I post this draft, if I ever do, it will be a much later date. This is in part because it’s a little too fresh for me to share publicly. I’m taking time to write today mostly to process my feelings on the matter – but as I think about the purpose of my blog, I really want to let people see inside my mind and be able to experience what I’m feeling. I know I’m not the only person who has ever felt this way, so maybe some of what I write will speak to you and be something you can empathize with. If not, maybe it will at least give you a bit of an idea of what a woman might go through when she decides she wants to try to get pregnant. My experience certainly does not fully encompass everyone’s experiences, but I think it’s worth sharing. Thanks for reading.

Today is July 15 – it was day 30 of my cycle, and I had been waiting to take the pregnancy test I bought a few days ago. I told Dean I was 90% sure I was pregnant – I could tell. I had been feeling slightly nauseous for the past week, and I had even had spotting the day before – which I attributed to implantation spotting. I had planned on taking the pregnancy test this morning, but when I took my basal body temperature upon waking up, there was a drastic drop from the sustained high temps. I had gone from a 97.8 temp to a 97.1 in twenty-four hours. If you’re a BBT charter, you know that’s a big shift. You would also know that a temperature drop can signal that your period is about to start. I told myself that maybe it was a fluke, but I decided not to take the pregnancy test since I knew what it probably meant. The bleeding started a few hours later.

The first time Dean and I ever tried to get pregnant (before Calvin), I experienced the same thing. I had totally convinced myself that I was pregnant, but that time I confidently took the pregnancy test, and was shocked when it resulted in a single line instead of the positive plus sign. I felt like I had experienced a loss, even though I had never truly been pregnant, I just fully expected to be.

It’s a weird thing to feel like you’ve lost something you’ve never really had. I know this feeling does not compare to the experience of having a miscarriage or loss of a child – I have a hard time even fathoming the level of pain and loss on that scale.

So here I am, not actually on day 30 of my cycle, but back to day 1 – starting over again. Attempting to get pregnant is a huge waiting game – you wait for the right window of fertility (which is a bit of guessing game) in your cycle, hope that your attempts go well, and then you have to wait a few more weeks before you can find out if you succeeded or failed. Because that’s kind of what it feels like if you don’t get pregnant: failure.

I read something the other day that said only 38% of women will get pregnant the first month they try, and this number refers to women actually trying to time intercourse correctly for the purpose of getting pregnant. This percentage increases to 68% over 3 cycles of trying – but that still means almost one third of women actively trying for a baby won’t get pregnant even after three months.

Those numbers are both discouraging and comforting to me – discouraging because I know my chances of getting pregnant right away are slim, but comforting knowing that the majority of women are experiencing the same thing. Why am I holding myself to an impossible standard and feeling bad for not getting pregnant on the first try? This is my perfectionism kicking into overdrive and rising up to an unhealthy level. I know that and recognize it for what it is, but yet is is still hard to let go of.

Hopefully I will have the courage to post this soon – it might not be until after pregnancy is achieved and has been announced – though some have called me “brave” for writing and sharing about such sensitive topics, I typically only share when the bad times have passed, not while in the midst of them.
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