Helpless
When people talk to you about having kids, they often ask you if you’re ready to give up your freedom, your ability to go out when you want, see whatever movie you want, eat whatever you want, stay up until 4am, sleep in when you want, have sex when you want, work late if you need to, live in a crappy apartment in a bad school district if you so choose…so many sacrifices. People list them and warn you. And you say, “Yes, I’m ready. I want a baby to love and to hold and to care for. I want to smell the sweet smell of a baby’s head after a bath, and hear their laughter at some silly thing. I want a child to grow up and be my friend and love me in the way that children love their parents. I want to go watch their ball games and ballet recitals. I want to hold them and comfort them when they’re sick. I want it. I want it all.” And if you’re fortunate, you get all of that.
But do you know what no one asks? “Are you ready? Ready to see your child in pain, and to not be able to help them? How will you deal with that?” And that’s the hard part sometimes. Maya got her braces tightened yesterday, and she was in so much pain. Truly grumpy and nothing we could do would help. No pain killers (didn’t work…we tried), no cuddles, no ice cream or smoothies or distracting movies. Nothing. All we could do was sit there and see her feel miserable. And I realized, like a bolt of lighting, that even though she gets her braces off in a couple of months (November, we hope), this isn’t the end of being helpless in the face of her pain. She will face rejection from a crush. She will break up with someone she loves. She will have disappointments from not getting into the school she wants, or not getting the job she wants. She will have friends disappear from her life, and will wonder why. She will have troubles that I haven’t imagined yet. Maybe the death of someone she loves. Maybe not being able to have children. Maybe something worse. I don’t know. And I feel helpless. Seeing her sad, angry face tonight, so miserable with pain and wanting it to go away. Wishing there was something I could do to help her through it. Knowing that there isn’t. This is the part I wasn’t really prepared for.
People tell you that your mother can kiss your boo-boo and make the pain go away. We should remember enough from our own lives to know that this simply isn’t true.
10 Comments
joan
My son’s passion is football. He wants to play in college. He’s a high school junior and that’s when colleges look at players. He has worked so hard in the off season. This summer he would get up 3 times a week at 6:30 to work out. A few weeks after not feeling well for some time he tested positive for mono. He’s lost all the weight he worked to put on. He’s lost strength. So far he’s missed 2 games. He stands on the sidelines in his jersey and jeans after being a starter for 2 years.
It makes me so sad not because I’m big on having him play but because it’s his dream. I can’t do anything to make it right for him.
J
Thanks Joan. Clearly, you get what I’m talking about. Frustrating. Sigh.
CuriosityKiller
Oh J. Can I tell you my childish fear? This is the major reasons why I never settled down and have children. I don’t like to feel so useless and helpless and out of control. I’m afraid of having a daughter because she’ll have to deal with society’s attitude on how she should be, and how she should handle her body, etc. I’m afraid of having a son because he’ll have to deal with becoming a real man, and being successful, and all that…. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be good enough of a parent to help them or guide them through it all… or not having enough money to put them through better schools… or on the reverse, working too much and neglect them, etc.
Yes – I think about that all the time. That’s why I’m more than happy to teach children. I just have to be responsible for one hour a week.
Starshine
Oh, that’s so hard. I’m sorry.
As a kid, the beautiful thing about having a mom and a dad like you and Ted is that Maya knows that even though you can’t ease the pain of her tightened braces, she still has a safe place to be in her misery. You are a safe haven for her, and sometimes, as a child, that is the most comforting thing of all.
*Hugs from Texas*
CuriosityKiller
That being said – I do sometimes fantasize about settling down with a good man and getting the cuddles and trust from my own child. I’m feeling it.
Selina Kingston
Gosh you are so right. My 17 year-old daughter is starting to fall big time for her new boyfriend and I’m dreading that hurt she’s going to feel when it finishes, if it finishes. It may be a few weeks from now, a few months or a few years but the longer it goes on the worse it will be and I would rather chew off my right arm slowly than see her go through that awful heartache that I remember so well. Still I suppose it’s part of life’s journey and they all need to go through pain and suffering in order to grow. Doesn’t mean we have to like it though!
Rain
I don’t think any of us get it until we have kids. I remember the day I realized that my happiness would forever be held hostage to theirs. And then comes the day when they have kids and you find out it’s the same with your grandkids. We just have no clue when we birth them that it never really ends, this connection to them and their pain.
Nance
Sigh. I know. Don’t you just hate it? And it’s never, ever over, either. My sons are 21 and 24, and I still fall into the terrible trap of wanting to be The Fixer. When they have a bad day at work, or when they are sick, or when they have a bad breakup, or when they just feel like crap, I still cannot STAND it. And you’re right…there’s only so much that a kiss, hug, or pan of brownies or a favorite entree can do. Oh, boy…and as they get bigger, the problems and heartbreaks get bigger too.
(un)relaxeddad
Dudelet is just starting to properly learn that some things get broken and can’t be mended. And it’s quite heartbreaking to see. I guess it’ll only get worse.
ybonesy
Watching my daughter go through emotional pain has also been hard for me. But at least then, I can talk about it, I can try to help her see that it won’t last forever. With physical pain, talking through it doesn’t seem to help one iota.