Dear Mom Of The Child Who Will Never Say, "I Love You",
I have often heard it said that being a mom is a thankless job. Written by Jonathan McGuire
I have often heard it said that being a mom is a thankless job. With all that moms do, I tend to agree that they are often not shown the appreciation that they deserve. More than 60 countries around the world have set aside a day to celebrate mothers. In the United States, tomorrow is Mother’s Day!
In homes around the country, moms are being treated to gourmet breakfasts in bed. This often consists of their child’s favorite foods ranging from the always delicious chocolate covered cereal to toast and ketchup, which tends to be more of an acquired taste. They are being presented with beautiful dandelion bouquets and sweet cards saying, “I love you.”
Dear Mom of the child who will never say, “I love you”,
Today I want to talk with you.
On this Mother’s Day your child will not whisper, “I love you” and you would love it if they brought you a breakfast of chocolate covered cereal.
Instead, your day will look very similar to yesterday. You may be in survival mode. Your child may be in meltdowns after trying to attend that special Mother’s Day service at church. Instead of smelling flowers, you may be smelling dirty diapers as you clean your teenager.
Know this, while your child cannot say it in so many words and they may not know the joy a hug brings to you, they do love you.
It has been said that, “Actions speak louder than words.”
In our recent podcast, we interviewed Jason and Sara Hague. Sara shared that a pivotal moment for her was realizing that she needed to treat everything her child did as communication.
Are there behaviors that only you see? Do you have days when your child appears to do great socially but collapses in tears when they get home? Are there times when your child clings to you after the smallest change to their routine? Maybe there are times you are craving a break but your child will not allow anyone else to take care of them except you.
Through their actions your child is communicating that they trust you like they trust no one else. When their world “falls apart” and change happens, they cling to you because you make them feel safe.
If actions speak louder than words, then please know that in their own way your child is shouting, “I love you!” on this Mother’s Day.
Written by Jonathan McGuire
Jonathan McGuire is the father of two sons and the co-founder of Hope Anew, a nonprofit that comes alongside the parents of children impacted by disability on a spiritual and emotional level. You can follow Hope Anew on Facebook here.
CHRONIC GRIEF: WHEN LIFE DOESN'T GO AS "PLANNED"
Sarah McGuire writes about how she unexpectedly found herself in the midst of chronic grief after a church family game night.
Our church recently had a family game night. I was playing Farkle at a table with other ladies. Two who are currently pregnant, one with her first child. Oh, the anticipation! The glittery eyes, the talk of baby things like car seats, strollers, carriers, sippy cups and swings. I loved joining in on the celebration, excitement, and planning for this new precious one’s arrival.
The conversation turned to maternity leave with all the same joy and sparkle of the previous conversation. Six or eight weeks off work and then back to work and baby gets to come along and how wonderful the situation will be so mom can be out and about.
That triggered me. I’d had the same anticipation when I was pregnant. I’d had similar expectations. But it had turned out so very differently.
Suddenly, I was struggling to participate in the conversation or even stay sitting at the table. I couldn’t rejoice with the anticipation of the soon-to-be-mom anymore. I wanted to try to warn her to be careful with her expectations or at least have a Plan B in case baby isn’t an easy baby. Because, well, you just never know.
I couldn’t leave the table without it being abrupt, so I tried hard to keep a pleasant, neutral look on my face so I didn’t throw a wet blanket of gloom on everyone at the table and festivities. I don’t know if I succeeded, but conversation continued swirling and my mind went back in time.
I’d been so excited about my baby. I’d planned and prepared. I’d gotten everything ready. I’d been so careful about not taking any over-the-counter medications or eating food that could pose a danger. I researched natural birth. I had a birth plan. Due to our life circumstances at the time, I had an after-hospital plan, a 2-month plan and a first year plan. And of course, expectations for the rest of my newest little love’s childhood and life.
But, things don’t always go as planned. You know that or you wouldn’t be reading this. Sometimes plans gone awry are a little hiccup, no big deal. Sometimes, life will never ever be the same.
During the first few years I fought it with everything in me. In the last few years I have come to accept it – whatever “it” looks like – progress or regressions. The unknowns of the future. I grieved the child and life I expected but will never have and came to accept our new normal. Not to say that daily life is easy. But I’ve accepted our reality and am content in my life.
Let me be clear – I delight in my child and who he is, but accepting all the challenges that came with him, the struggle that he (and we) live with daily, and the total upending to our entire life expectations is what was difficult.
Then there was game night and an excited new mom-to-be. As I sat down to write this blog post and traveled back to where she is now, I found tears rolling down my cheeks and sobs escaping my throat. I guess I’m still grieving the loss of that dream, of what never was and what never will be. It’s been so long since I’ve gone there and remembered that I ever had a different dream than what I’m living right now.
Chronic grief. It can be all consuming when you’re in the worst of it or can hit at any moment, unexpectedly. It’s okay. It doesn’t mean you don’t love your child with all your heart. It means that you lost something that was dear to you. Cry, sob, acknowledge it, name it - grief. Then dry those tears and go hug the child you do have and love dearly.
Written by Sarah McGuire
