Tuesday
Jul312012
If I'm gone (guest post)
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
From time to time, I like to share different voices on my blog. Mothering is not a uniform experience. Although we often have similar challenges and similar fears, we don't all come into parenting with the same background, resources and perspectives. I've been following my friend Jodi (@KarmicEvolution) on twitter for at least a few years, but got the chance to learn a lot more about her when I listened to her speak at 140 Conference Ontario on the three year anniversary of becoming homeless following the birth of her daughter. She's a mom, like me, and that means we have so much in common. But she is also a mom unlike me, and seeing mothering through her eyes is special and important to me. Please welcome Jodi to my blog.
I'm of the opinion that parenting is 75% terror. The time we spend watching them sleep, play, eat, there's always a little part of us ready to fly into panic reaction mode if their breathing slows too much, they fall down or they start to cough eating a french fry. We have become expert boo-boo fixers, made sure we know the Heimlich maneuver and I can now cut food into pieces so small even a pet mouse would look at me like “WTF is this?”
But I'm not always there.
Like any other parent I try to balance the work, life, parent thing. Sometimes successfully, most times rockily but I get it done. The difference is, my child only has one parent. There's no part-time parent every other weekend. No one else that loves my baby the way I do. No one else is responsible for her well being. Just me.
So, what if I'm not there?
I have an incredibly small family, including myself and my daughter there are three of us. The third being my 60 year old mother. We talk about the importance of having a will, or at least something on paper with our wishes should something happen to us. We watch the news, and know life is easily cut short unexpectedly. Cancer, violence, freak accidents, they all happen every day.
I find myself contemplating my daughter's life if I were gone. Who will love her? Who will tuck her in? Who will make sure shes breathing properly, pick her up if she falls, make sure she's not choking on her dinner. Who will read her stories, sing her favorite songs, know her favorite colour is pink, and all effortlessly and without even thinking about it?
I have an amazing circle of friends, all of whom I know would work together to make sure my little girl had an amazing life and was well loved and cared for, but is it the same? Can it ever be the same? Would she always be the outsider?
Obviously these are concerns any parent has. As a solo parent, knowing that there isn't a parental bond with anyone else, it comes to the forefront a lot. In fact anytime I start thinking I could use a spare pair of hands. When I'm sick and have no choice but to feed my kid cereal for three meals because I can't stand up long enough to do anything else. When my car breaks down and I have to pick her up from daycare and I'm stuck frantically calling everyone I know for help. At 2am, when she's asleep and I realize I'm out of milk, and bread, and can't run to the store so we have it for the morning.
I think “Who else is going to be willing to take on this responsibility? Who will care enough to sacrifice for her?” but the truth is no one cares about a child like a parent. I'm not saying no one loves someone else's child, but its a very different kind of love.
This fear can be paralysing, it's the nature of love and life. Once you start to over think it, analyze it, look at it from every angle, you start to think that some kind of bio-dome seems like a perfectly acceptable way to live, wearing kevlar, eating a liquid diet, in a helmet, with everything covered in bubble wrap. Everyday though we get up and continue on with life and keep our fingers crossed.
Jodi Sonoda is a vocal mental health and homelessness advocate who believes in the power of social media. As a blogger (www.myaccidentallife.blogspot.com ) and motivational speaker she refuses to hold back the details of life with a mental health illness. Solo mama to one gorgeous 3 year old daughter, and closet rock star just waiting to break out, her life goal is to leave the world better than she came into it.
If I'm gone
I'm of the opinion that parenting is 75% terror. The time we spend watching them sleep, play, eat, there's always a little part of us ready to fly into panic reaction mode if their breathing slows too much, they fall down or they start to cough eating a french fry. We have become expert boo-boo fixers, made sure we know the Heimlich maneuver and I can now cut food into pieces so small even a pet mouse would look at me like “WTF is this?”
But I'm not always there.
Like any other parent I try to balance the work, life, parent thing. Sometimes successfully, most times rockily but I get it done. The difference is, my child only has one parent. There's no part-time parent every other weekend. No one else that loves my baby the way I do. No one else is responsible for her well being. Just me.
So, what if I'm not there?
I have an incredibly small family, including myself and my daughter there are three of us. The third being my 60 year old mother. We talk about the importance of having a will, or at least something on paper with our wishes should something happen to us. We watch the news, and know life is easily cut short unexpectedly. Cancer, violence, freak accidents, they all happen every day.
I find myself contemplating my daughter's life if I were gone. Who will love her? Who will tuck her in? Who will make sure shes breathing properly, pick her up if she falls, make sure she's not choking on her dinner. Who will read her stories, sing her favorite songs, know her favorite colour is pink, and all effortlessly and without even thinking about it?
I have an amazing circle of friends, all of whom I know would work together to make sure my little girl had an amazing life and was well loved and cared for, but is it the same? Can it ever be the same? Would she always be the outsider?
Obviously these are concerns any parent has. As a solo parent, knowing that there isn't a parental bond with anyone else, it comes to the forefront a lot. In fact anytime I start thinking I could use a spare pair of hands. When I'm sick and have no choice but to feed my kid cereal for three meals because I can't stand up long enough to do anything else. When my car breaks down and I have to pick her up from daycare and I'm stuck frantically calling everyone I know for help. At 2am, when she's asleep and I realize I'm out of milk, and bread, and can't run to the store so we have it for the morning.
I think “Who else is going to be willing to take on this responsibility? Who will care enough to sacrifice for her?” but the truth is no one cares about a child like a parent. I'm not saying no one loves someone else's child, but its a very different kind of love.
This fear can be paralysing, it's the nature of love and life. Once you start to over think it, analyze it, look at it from every angle, you start to think that some kind of bio-dome seems like a perfectly acceptable way to live, wearing kevlar, eating a liquid diet, in a helmet, with everything covered in bubble wrap. Everyday though we get up and continue on with life and keep our fingers crossed.Jodi Sonoda is a vocal mental health and homelessness advocate who believes in the power of social media. As a blogger (www.myaccidentallife.
Reader Comments (4)
I'm a pessimist who has been fighting depression for half my life, I adore my daughter and I do spend time thinking about the worst case scenarios. We had it settled, if something happened to us, she would go live with her aunt in Winnipeg and be close to extended family. Now we own a house and my mother lives with us and everything seems confusing and complicated all over again. We have to decide and we have to put it in writing or I don't know what would be decided for us.
I have a third of my 37 year long life that was dominated by mental illness. Anxiety, Bi-Polar, Depression. It doesn't sit in the forefront of my mind as much today as it did for years, simply because the responsibilities of motherhood take up most of that real estate these days. There are 3 children under my roof. His (my spouse has full custody), Mine, (I am in the process of legally removing the biological father's parental rights) and ours. On Friday I will have a follow up doctor's appointment to see if my biopsy results are malignant or be nine. Most symptoms are pointing towards malignant. To see a post addressing 'if i am not there' hit home. This week I have been updating life insurance benefactors, wills and power of attorney's. Most importantly, I have been contacting family and close friends to let them know my final wishes, most importantly in regards to my son. My spouse, who my son knows as his father, has no legal rights in his regard. I have clearly asked those who love my son to fight to the bitter end to make sure my son stays with the man who has fathered him from his first year of life. My prognosis is excellent. Almost a 100% recovery rate, but this scare has definitely put the thought 'if I'm not there' into that precious real estate at the forefront of my mind. Thank you for your post.
I think about this, too, of course. But I've also seen examples of how it can out. My mother in law lost her parents to a drunk driver when she was only a teenager. She was raised by extended family until she became an adult and then in turn became mother to her younger siblings.
I'm also a solo mama but there are 3. 1 has an involved dad/stepmom but the other 2 are mine, all mine. 99% of the time I think that's great...but when it doesn't seem great (I can't help but imagine my beautiful boys wandering the streets all Oliver Twist like) and I don't know what will happen if something happened to me...I become paralyzed with fear. My OCD kicks in and nothing else gets done for a few days until I move on to the next thing.
No wise words but I feel ya mama.