A Mother's Weakness

I consider myself to have a good deal of inner strength. I’ve proven myself able to remain calm in stressful situations at work. I don’t find the challenge of controlling my own emotions to stay strong for others in difficult times, like death, an impossible one. With Caroline’s birth, however, I developed a major emotional sensitivity and feel as though my stomach could launch itself right out of my throat when I hear of a baby or child being harmed.

Reading a story in my Parenting magazine about a little girl who fell out of a second story window onto pavement was the first time I got the feeling in my stomach (without it having anything to do with Caroline). It didn’t matter that the article prefaced by saying the little girl was perfectly healthy now and had no signs of long-term damage. The visualization of the mother witnessing this out of the corner of her eye and trying to imagine the thoughts that went through her head as she realized it was her daughter who she found unconscious on the pavement seconds later is something I will never be able to discard from my mind. Perhaps it is because I can’t help but imagine myself in every awful situation that I hear/read about now that I am a mother. I can’t help but wonder how I would react in a situation like that and what the toll would be on Caroline and especially on me.

I would like to say it is only true stories like this one that can evoke such anxiety in me, but it’s not true. Movies, commercials, and fictional stories all have the same impact on me whenever a child is harmed in any way. I am not proud to have developed this weakness, nor am I convinced it necessarily helps me to be a better mother. I thank God every day that Caroline has gone through eight and a half months with little more than a case of heat rash. I still have to tell myself that it was okay to let her cry a few minutes at a time while we were testing out ways to get her to fall asleep on her own and that she will probably not need therapy because of it later on in life. But I know that chances are someday she is going to get hurt, whether it be scraping her knee or someone being mean to her, and I worry that my reaction will be one Hollywood couldn’t even compete with. The rational part of me knows that some of life’s lessons require a little pain, and some require a lot more. The pain is normal and inevitable and I feel as though all the challenges I have endured have made me a stronger and more compassionate person. But even with this awareness, I know if there were a way I could shelter Caroline and could take on every burden she will come to face as she grows up, I would do it in a heartbeat. I suppose it’s just another part of a mother’s instinct.