Time and time again I am told what an amazing mother I am.
“Claire could not have asked for a better family.”
“Sam and Claire are so lucky to have parents like you and Adam.”
“I don’t know how you do it. You are amazing!”
The truth is, some days I feel like I totally suck. There are days like today where my entire day is consumed with feelings of guilt, frustration, anger, and overwhelming sadness. Days like today make me question all of the choices I made as a mother. I love my kids beyond comprehension, but I am still human. And I think and hope that by writing this post I will make other mothers who are also struggling feel just a little bit better about themselves.
- I yell at the boys all the time. They’re frustrating, overwhelming, and just do not listen.
- I can’t do it by myself, which makes me feel like a total failure. I depend on other people to help me. We are so lucky to have a fabulous nanny who acts as a second mom.
- I’m sad. I’m sad that my life isn’t what I expected it to be.
- I’m sad that every time I see a baby girl I pause and force myself to stop thinking “what if.”
- I’m jealous of my friends who have never, and will never, deal with a special needs child.
- I’m angry that Down syndrome exists and I’m even angrier when other moms who have a child with DS say they wouldn’t change their child even if they could.
- I’m frustrated that I spend so much time researching and formulating, emailing and talking about all of the “extras” I have to do for Sam and Claire.
- I’m annoyed that half of my life is spent scheduling therapies and going to therapy.
- I’m pissed off. I’m pissed that I did “my time,” and then got slapped in the face again.
Life shouldn’t be this way. I’m disappointed in myself for getting consumed with my feelings. While I don’t get this way often, I DO get this way. And it sucks. It sucks to be sad about your children and your life. When everyone is telling me what a great job I’m doing, all I can think is, “You have no idea.”
It took me days to get the courage to write this post, and several more days to get the courage to hit “publish.”
My sweet Sam… I love you. I love that you taught us how to love and hope with our entire being.
Jack Jack… You are the leader of the pack and it’s a job you don’t take lightly. You love your siblings, and I love watching you love them.
E Bear… The day you were born was a day filled with absolute joy. You have continued to bring happiness, joy, and craziness into our lives.
Princess Claire… You are everything I never knew I always wanted.
This blog is my memoir, and one day I hope to look back at posts like this and smile—smile at the naive 30-year-old who didn’t know how fantastic her life was about to become.