Trying to translate love into action

All of this reminiscing about the past is starting to affect me; I feel as if I have a thousand ton weight on my head. I wish I could erase my mind. When you consciously try to forget something, it suddenly looms larger, doesn’t it? I find myself up at night (when my baby is sleeping moreover!), staring at the ceiling. And, no, I do not have an interesting ceiling. Sometimes I watch my daughter shuffle around in her sleep, flinging her arms, slamming her legs down; she’s a restless sleeper. I wonder what she’ll be saying about me in twenty years. Will I look as bad in her eyes as my dad does in mine? Am I correcting his mistakes with my daughter? I have been pushing myself to the edge of my physical and mental capabilities, trying to be everything I ever wanted in a parent…that is, not like him. Smiley, happy, stable, constantly making eye contact, reassuring her to prevent fear. Always holding her, even when my back and knees are worn out for the day and I stumble down the stairs. I never let her go. I deny myself food and drink so that I won’t have to leave her for a minute; so I won’t disturb her sleep after she nurses; so she doesn’t cry. I wear myself out keeping her from crying; I can’t bear it, it breaks my heart. I make funny faces at her when I want to cry; take her out for a walk when I want to hide under the bedcovers. I want her life to be all about her. And inside of me, I want life to be all about me. Sometimes I feel resentment—I want to be the baby, to be taken care of in this way. I wish I were the taker instead of the giver. But I had my turn, years ago, even if I feel ripped off of a childhood.

But I want my daughter to be happy in a way I wasn’t. Despite my inner jealousy and resentment over giving her everything I never had (and how odd that sounds!), I want for her to desire to be here and to be free. And if I do that, I’ll have done my job here on this earth. I keep thinking about my deathbed, when my life is done, and I am relieved because I will have no regrets. For the first five months of her life, at the very least, I have been the parent I wanted to have. I have set down a strong foundation for her to stand upon, thanks be to God.


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