"A mother is..."

Some things I need to say about raising five diverse-needs kids in response being mentioned on a podcast. And a poem for a young mother.

I have some friends in North Georgia whom I hardly ever see. I started as a listener to their podcast and then graduated to being a podcaster with my husband for a short while on the same media network. Jeff and I went on hiatus, but Mac and Katherine are still going strong with Catholic in a Small Town. I got to see them in person last month and had a wonderful brisket dinner with them. Got a tour of the house and the woods. Walked the dogs. And we caught up on family news, which if you don’t see each other for 14 years at a time can build up.

It was no surprise to be mentioned at the top of a recent episode, but it was interesting to come back at the end of the show in relation to a feedback letter from a listener who was having a hard time being the mother of two little girls while having a third on the way. This young mother is a Catholic who practices Natural Family Planning (NFP) and was frustrated with having gotten pregnant while trying to avoid pregnancy. My name came up in context of having five children and the struggles of managing the needs of multiple kids and being “open to life” —as the devout Catholic jargon goes.

Yes, my husband and I are “open to life.” Yes, my husband and I conceived multiple times while trying to avoid. Yes, I would not have things another way because motherhood has pushed me to be a better, smarter and more resourceful person.

The mother of my youngest child’s friend actually thanked me for having the courage to have a fifth child because my daughter is such a good friend. (And she really is.) But is it really courage to have more children than planned if I really believe that I must accept what I am given?

I was not holding my last positive pregnancy test braced with bravery or loving conviction. I was embarrassed that I had somehow messed up in reading fertility windows, and I was afraid of the financial consequences that this would have for my family. I was also uncomfortable sharing the news in a city where I thought we would look like radical religious outliers. I was ashamed and scared, but I got over it and got ballsy enough break the news to my husband. Yes, I felt all these emotions in the 20 minutes that I was alone in my bathroom.

I thought, You do the next right thing. That’s all you can do. As overwhelming as parenthood is, you just have to break it down to steps. Who needs me most now and what do they need? And remember the “who” could be you in that moment.

I have five children ranging from 20 to 8, and several of them have complex needs ranging from medical to developmental. We have had intensive case coordination, wraparound community care, and many in-home therapies over the years. We have many doctors and appointments. We have children who attend a special school associated with a hospital. We have had dire medical emergencies.

I am very thankful to live in a place where excellent education and medical care are accessible. I am thankful to have the personality and mental capacity to keep our family going, but it also means that I cannot have a full-time paid job. However, I have benefited so much from support here that I feel compelled to share my specialized knowledge with families who are dealing with similar complex needs. This is why I am simultaneously completing an internship at the Federation for Children with Special Needs and an MFA in creative writing.

There is nothing super human about me. Unless being a super human means being super aware of how all things can fall apart in an instant. Being human means knowing how ephemeral life is. I make so many mistakes. I miss appointments. I forget important forms. I get overwhelmed and hide in bed because sometimes it gets to be too much. I don’t ask for help because I feel like the people whom I want to help me won’t help me. I am afraid of being turned away. I am afraid I have lost friends forever because I am not fun anymore. Because I cry too easily.

Sometimes being a mother means being afraid of becoming someone no one wants while doing the necessary work of becoming what your children need.

But don’t be afraid if this is you. Because there are people like me who know exactly what this feels like. Just raise your hand, and I will come get you. You’ve got this. Because I don’t want you to fail.

As I have mentioned before, “It’s the hardest job there is…”

I wrote this very quick poem this morning as I was thinking of all moms who have found themselves despairing during pregnancy. I hope this helps. If I work on this poem for a year it will probably get better, but for now I will share what I have with you…

Photo by Marin Tulard on Unsplash

To Kelsi

“A mother is”

A halfway home 
For forming souls
Where grit transforms
A mother of pearl.
This precious thing
That you surrender
To this life—
We call it treasure. 

A treasure is something beautiful. Valuable. It is like all my favorite things—hidden but discoverable. You may have to dig deeper and with more strength and stamina than you think you have in you. But treasure is often found in a chest—just like one’s heart.