Posted in About Me

When You Fail As Mother

Being a mother is hard work. We bring children into the world to love and protect from harm. All we want is to love our children, to watch them grow up and become parents themselves. Young mother’s don’t think about becoming grandparents, nor aunts. We are focused on our babies. Making sure they’re fed, cleaned, warm, and have a home. We creep into the bedrooms of our children hours after they have fallen asleep, to thank God for that day and pray for the next day. We want to be with our children all the time. Not to be an airplane or an overprotected mother, or to not let our children grow up. We want to love the child God had created for us.

Mother’s understand that our children don’t want us to be the momma bird for the rest of their lives. We don’t want to be the momma bird either. In all honesty, we want to see you take that first flight out of the nest. Our hope for you is that you have taken in all the lessons we’ve taught you, that includes the bad. Why the bad, so you can see that we too make mistakes. What you’re missing is when we beat ourselves to death about our mistakes. When we see you doing the same as us, we know we didn’t do the job correctly. We tell ourselves all through the pregnancy that we won’t be like our parents. But in the end, we do just that. Our habits are like hammy downs. Toren and frayed ripped and stained all passed along to the children.

We try to mend the broken only to find we are the broken. We are worse than the hammy downs. We aren’t fixable. We are aware of this by seeing our children with other mother’s. We are aware of this as our children no longer have anything to do with us. Punished for our actions, the actions we were taught. We search to figure out what action it was that ended a relationship with our child. Our minds are in falling apart. The files in our brains have been dropped and spread throughout our thoughts. We work hard to sort and find the mistake, but only to find that’s not the right one. So we continue to beat ourselves to nothing because we have failed our children, not only our children but ourselves. We want to be that mom everyone wants to be around, we dream it. Only to be dreaming of a nightmare. A nightmare that never leaves us. Our nightmares keep us awake all through the night and our days begin to darken.

As we weep and fall to our knees praying to God, that he will shine a light on our darkened days. To bring our children back, to allow us to show a change in one way or another. To heal the broken, and forgive us of our sins. We ask ourselves, do we deserve forgiveness? Do we deserve a second chance? Have we prayed enough? In our hearts, do we believe God is our savior? Did we raise our children in a Christ-like way? He is to be our strength, our drive, our hope, and our leader. The enemy sugar-coats our feelings. Making us believe we are worthless. Worthless sets in and become just that worthless. We aren’t worthy of anything, not even our children. Mother’s that are valuable will be sought out. The broken will be left to die alone with the pain they’ve carried all this time. Only to beg one last time before their last breath to be please forgive us.

On judgment day, we fall about to our knees praying for forgiveness, and once again have our children be about of us. To allow us to make our mistakes but still love us for who are. Human. Not a piece of trash that is no longer needed.

When All You Want Is Your MOTHER

On this day, all I want is my mother. I long for her voice, her hand, to fall into her lap and cry. To tell her I’m the problem, the reason she doesn’t get to see her grandchildren nor their children. I’m the reason the family is a trainwreck. And that I failed her as a mother. My mother did her very best with us kids. I only knew what I had seen. I thought my mother did a hell of a job raising three children on her own. Somewhere along the line, I didn’t get that lesson. The lesson I received was I wasn’t worthy. I wasn’t good enough and that I was the problem and the blame. I still want my mom. For her to hold me, tell me things would be okay only to know she would walk away again. The cycle continues.

Author:

Wife of 30 years to my high school sweetheart Jon. Mother of 2 adult children, grandmother of 2 granddaughters. Pet lover of 6 dogs, 2 fish and 1 cat. I love genealogy and learning more about my ancestries. I like paying it forward through genealogy also. In enjoy crafts, reading, shopping, antiques and much more.

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