Parenting
By Jamie Collins
Updated: February 20, 2016
Originally Published: November 7, 2015
As I sat in the waiting room for my 32-week appointment, the routine felt all too familiar. Strong heartbeat? Check. Measuring on track? Check. Weight gain? Absolutely.
“Just eight more weeks to go!” my midwife chirped.
“Ugh, I was really hoping you’d say there was some mix-up, and I’d be having this baby tomorrow. I’m so done with this,” I replied, my frustration evident.
She chuckled. “I’m afraid not. This is the final stretch. Hang in there, and try to relish these moments.”
As I wiped the sticky gel off my belly, I felt enormous, uncomfortable, and overwhelmed with sadness. Enjoy this time? I had disliked every single moment of my pregnancy, and it only seemed to get worse. The thought of enduring another two months made me want to cry.
Five days later, my water broke. After eight long days of bed rest, I welcomed a tiny premature baby into the world.
The journey of motherhood unleashed a torrent of expected emotions: joy, frustration, fear, compassion, anxiety, empathy, and of course, love. These feelings washed over me in waves, sometimes all at once. It was a lot to navigate, but I knew it was part of the hormonal rollercoaster that accompanied motherhood. I focused on staying strong for my baby.
However, the one emotion that blindsided me was guilt.
From the moment my little one entered the world, a crushing sense of guilt enveloped me. I felt as if my complaints during pregnancy had somehow caused his premature arrival. It may seem absurd, and my doctors reassured me that my water breaking was purely coincidental, yet the guilt persisted. It haunted me like a shadow, as constant as my yearning for a full night’s sleep.
I felt guilty when I learned our baby would go straight to the NICU. Each visit there filled me with guilt, and even when I couldn’t be present because I was pumping or preparing our home for him, guilt lingered. I felt guilty that he needed a breathing monitor due to underdeveloped lungs and that he struggled to latch on.
The guilt was all-consuming.
Now, at five months old, my son is thriving and healthy—perfect in my eyes and those of the medical professionals. Yet, the guilt shows no signs of retreat. Each time I attempt to forgive myself for a perceived shortcoming—whether it be having a premature baby or not reading to him before bed—there’s always something new to feel guilty about.
For instance, here’s a list of the trivial things I’ve felt guilty about today, and it’s only 3 p.m.:
- I didn’t kiss my partner goodbye this morning. Come to think of it, I didn’t even say goodnight last night.
- I didn’t take my dog for a long enough walk during lunch.
- I sent the baby to his sitter still in pajamas.
- I dropped him off at the sitter—period. I wrestle with guilt about returning to work. I thought I had moved beyond that feeling.
- Although I’m working from home, I’ve done more housework than actual work.
- I haven’t done enough housework.
- I spent $60 on a custom baby book and haven’t even filled out a single page.
- I haven’t switched out my seasonal clothes because I’m too lazy.
- I stopped pumping.
- I can’t afford to buy my little one adorable outfits seen online, so he often wears hand-me-downs.
- I treated myself to coffee from a café instead of using our perfectly good coffee maker at home.
- I haven’t worn makeup in months.
- I haven’t worn my hair down in weeks.
- I haven’t been to the gym since giving birth, but I refuse to cancel my membership because I keep telling myself I’ll start spin classes next week.
I can recall a time when guilt wasn’t part of my daily life. Before I was responsible for another human being, I didn’t think twice about indulgences or personal choices.
Perhaps guilt is indeed an intrinsic part of motherhood.
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In essence, guilt often accompanies the journey of motherhood, shaping our experiences and perceptions as we strive to be the best parents we can.