sophiekings95-blog - Tumblr blog

[sophiekings95-blog]

Bad mom

For my sons 1st birthday, I decided to write a letter for him to open when he’s 18, just in case I’m not around. This evening I came across said letter and I managed to break my own heart. The emotions that this tear stained piece of paper filled with self hate made me relive was just incredible. The thoughts and emotions racing through my mind, the only way I can think to process them all is to write it down, so here goes. I think the thing to remember is that parenting really doesn’t come with an instruction manual. Everyone will warn you about the sleepless nights, teething, the terrible twos. I don’t think anyone warned me about the personal struggles I would come across. My son will be 3 years old in a few months. I have spent most of his life believing I was truly the worst mother in the whole world. Being 19 years old and pregnant is a terrifying thing. You have an image in your head of this perfect family that you are promising your unborn child, the high expectations due to how your parents have brought you up, the worry of money, home, stability, balancing a job, not losing your friends, it’s a lot to process. I used to say the thing I struggled most with about becoming a mom was losing my identity. I was such an independent teenager with multiple jobs and ambitions and who took great pride in earning everything I had. Then I had this beautiful baby and suddenly I was scraping by on £130 a week maternity pay from work and going from an individual with a name to ‘the girl with a baby’. Don’t get me wrong, that still is one of the biggest obstacles I came across, no one warned me I’d feel like that and it was totally out of character. But looking at the whole, nearly 3 years experience, I can say my biggest struggle was my self belief in being a mom. I somehow managed to juggle becoming a first time mother with heartache. The usual heartache that every person faces. And then the heartache that guilt brings. The guilt for going back to work. The guilt for not having enough time to give him. The guilt for missing the odd bathtime. The guilt from sharing parental responsibilities with my grandparents. The list goes on. I used to hold my baby and sob. I honestly believed I couldn’t give him what he needed because that perfect image in my head wasn’t our reality. I doubted my ability to look after him. Not the feeding him, clothing him, bathing him etc. No, that stuff was easy. It was just me. I just wasn’t good enough for this amazing little human-being. I would constantly slate myself, I had somehow convinced myself of all the faults I had and why I couldn’t be this little boys mom. And who would want me? A broken young girl with a baby on her own, still living at home? So if no one would want me, how could I provide this family that I promised my baby when I saw those two lines for the first time? The only advice I received was time. And that is all I could pass on. It sucks. I used to say, ‘well how much longer’, and it’s horrible. You just feel like your heart is being ripped out, but it gets better one day. You find love again. Whether that’s a new partner, a new job, new aspirations or just love within yourself, things just suddenly feel OK one day. Reading my letter from nearly 2 years ago, I wish I could go back and give the 21 year old version of myself some encouragement. You are enough. Look at what you’ve achieved after one year of being a mother. Look at how happy your child is. How could anyone ever love him as much as you? You are doing such a good job. Stop giving yourself such a hard time. You. Are. Enough. The hardest thing about looking back? I honestly believed I was a bad mom. I really thought I was this terrible, terrible person because I loved my son too much to give him to someone who could ‘look after him properly’. Now I think, how could I ever have thought that? I would move mountains for that child. I would give him the clothes off my back. I would die for him. How could anyone ever compete with that? I am now finally in a place where I can look in the mirror and say ‘I am a good mom’. After 2 and a half years of constant self torture and loathe, it feels so good to say, I’m doing it. I am parenting and I am doing a bloody good job. I make mistakes. I still struggle. I still need help. I could never ever have done it without the continuous support around me. But I am a good mom. In fact, I am the best mom for my child. I thought being a parent meant giving your child a life. I’ve discovered that being a parent means your child gives you your life.