Sun 16 Mar 2008
Momzilla
Posted by Jane under Updates
[21] Comments
The green monster has reared its ugly head around here. It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last, but this latest bout of jealousy seems nastier than usual. Jealousy is such an icky emotion, I’m not even sure you’ll want to read on, but if you do, be forewarned: The following thoughts may make you want to slap me, backhand.
I’ve been unusually preoccupied with babies and pregnancies lately. There are several people near and very dear to me who are either expecting a baby or have just had a baby (and in one case both, you know who you are). I am happy for them. I know what a blessing a baby is. Not just to them but to our whole community. But as I watch them anticipate and then receive their healthy infants I am plagued with what can only be described as an empty feeling, the feeling of being left behind.
Part of the problem is that I spin the present into the future, adjusting for my self-pity and flair for ingratitude. I imagine a future where I am providing lifelong medical care for Ramona as she struggles to survive, grow and develop while my friends’ daughters grow up, go to college and become Nobel Prize-winning underwear models.
I wonder what this is about. Why this feeling seems so involuntary and persistent. Who cares if Ramona isn’t “perfect”? None of us are. Who cares if she does or doesn’t look like she has a “syndrome”? She’s adorable. I’ve been desperately trying to work it through in my mind and achieve some peace. I even googled “easing jealousy”. No luck.
I’ve been down the rabbit hole about as far as I dare go and the best I can come up with is this: I have never taken great care of myself. I do everything to the extreme and have a tendency to chase the immediate pay-off with little regard for the long-term consequences. I think I’m carrying with me the feeling that somehow, someway, Ramona’s illness is the fruit of the choices I have made. That God made me, beautiful and without sin, and I have somehow corrupted myself so completely that even my children bear the mark of my sins.
I know, I know, I know that this is not how God works. I know this line of thinking dishonors Ramona and the beautiful way God made her. But I just cannot get it out of my head. I know that it demonstrates my lack of faith in God’s plan and purpose for us all, and yet it persists. I think that somehow this feeling of guilt and shame reacts to the good fortune of others. Like maybe God only has so many healthy kids to spare and he’s certainly not handing them out to moms who can’t even take care of themselves. It somehow confirms my messed-up way of thinking and then I find myself envying their wholeness and worthiness.
I’m out on a limb here, I know. I guess I’m kind of hoping that one of you might be able to help. That you might be able to lead me to the truth with some of the wisdom and counsel that has helped me so much in the past. No Psalms 139 though please, I’ve read it till I’m blue in the face, nada.
Thanks for listening, you’re saving me a lot of money on the therapy I probably need, Jane.
EDITED 3/17 TO ADD: I feel like I should clarify that I in no way feel entitled to my jealousy. I think it’s sinful. Although the feelings are real and I feel I need to acknowledge them, I also need to move on. I’m working on it. I like what Terri has said below about perceived loss. Most of my jealousy comes from comparing Ramona’s situation to what I thought it “should” have been or to what others have. I have gained immensely from knowing her and any loss I feel is compared to something imaginary that was never promised by God. I also like what Erin said about not feeding it. Airing my thoughts here is a way for me to get them out in the open and hopefully work through them. Thanks for all of your support and for “showing up” when I’m in a dark place.
Dear Jane,
Believe me, I know how hard it can be to break unhealthy habits, to make different choices than the ones we are used to making, the ones we like to make.
I think we can’t have it both ways, i.e. indulge ourselves & still grow.
One attitude I work on a lot is my tendency toward self-pity. Self-pity clouds my thinking & my understanding about all that is good in my life. Self-pity is a rabbit hole for me. A very deep one.
I think we all have more choices available to us for health & joy & peace than we can imagine!
Love you!
Hey Jane
I don’t think your feelings are that surprising and if I was having a baby (no more for us) I would understand your feelings. I felt quite bitter and jealous when I was having multiple miscarriages and others had happy little babies 8 months after their “surprise” announcement. And then when we were told Wren had a CHD I was like “What the..?”
Its interesting how your faith and spiritual honesty lead you to frame questions that never occur to me. For me, as a buddhist who believes in the suffering and joy inherent in life, Wren’s CHD is an event that has happened with absolutely no meaning aside from what I chose to make of it.
I am puzzled about how I would even approach the question of what God would be up to dealing out physical ailments or allowing suffering to occur. I might become surly and ungrateful.
I have been reading a book about a young doctor working in a poor, AIDS ravaged community in Swaziland (where some of my family lives). It is very very hard to read of babies whose lives end because of a lack of a clean IV or penicillin or of their mother (who has died of AIDS). At this stage in my life I see suffering everywhere, interwoven in things, and my question is how to build happiness in the face of such prolific anguish.
I hope you find your answers from those who share your faith and know god better but for now, you sound very honest and human – the things that make your writing most splendid and endearing.
Hi Jane,
Just wanted to say to you that you have such a beautiful little girl! Ramona Mae looks fabulous. Just so cute and looking robust!
Michael and I send you and your wonderful family our best. We are lucky to get updates from Sue and we think of you and your family often, wishing you the best of everything.
Love, Barbara
(Applebutter Inn)
You have told me more than once that life (particularly around babies) is not a “merit based system.” Britney Spears has X number of pregnancies and babies and I don’t think she is less sinful than you and me. It can’t be about that. There’s no way that you caused or brought this on. I think jealousy happens; it’s a natural response to life’s inequities. It doesn’t mean that you don’t love and accept Ramona, just as she is. It just seems to me that no mother would choose pain and medical problems for her child, and I don’t think anyone judges you if that part of Ramona’s possible future grieves you. Any normal person would have a season of anger and jealousy in the wake of life events like yours; I don’t believe anyone who claims to have fast-forwarded through that part. The humble and the brave among us (I think) are the ones who cop to the ugly emotions, work through and learn from them.
It’s also makes sense that we would feel left behind and jealous when we’re in the middle of the story. It’s only later that we can fit the lack, the loss, the thing that makes us different from those we envy, into the larger scheme of things. As far as I’m concerned, it is only then that we can embrace that which is uniquely, wonderfully and horribly ours, and forget about what we thought was worse or better. There is honor in what you are going through, even the gnarly ugly parts.
I just wanted to give you a hug and let you know that you are not alone at all in your thoughts. As a matter of fact, this is the same thing that I am currently struggling with right now.
Heart Hugs,
Samantha
I found your site through our friends. I have really enjoyed reading your posts and getting to know Ramona. I just wanted to tell you that I can relate to many of the things that you said. I had preemie twins (29 weeks) after trying a year to get pregnant. Since they have been born I have had a tough time with this as well. I finally came to the conclusion that I was not jealous for me, or mad that they were the ones having healthy children. I was just sad for my boys. Sad for the rough time they had, when they should have been sheltered and just been able to be a normal infant. I am so lucky to be their mommy. I just wish they could have had an easier time. Ramona is so special and she has touched so many people. Who knows if that would be true if she just had a normal beginning? In the end, the normal is not what is important. I will be praying for peace for you.
Blessings,
Katie Yoder
Jane,
I hate that you have these feelings…
I hate that all of us heart mama’s have to struggle with these feelings.
I hate that when you pray so hard for a baby…you finally get one…and wonder what you did wrong.
I hate that people treat you differently…you’re not invited to the same events before these special children.
I hate the pity look that people give you…like “I don’t know how you do it?!”
Jane…I don’t use the word “hate”…my kids get grounded when they use it. BUT…the above things…i hate.
What I DO KNOW…is that:
Ramona picked YOU to be her mom. She thought that YOU were special enough and strong enough to take care of her.
She was put on this earth for a special reason. We might not know that reason now…we might never know…but, our Heavenly Father knows…and You were chosen to bring her into this world and nurture her and take care of her.
I am NOT going to quote you any scriptures. (Because they’re in the next room…and I don’t have any memorized).
What i can tell you is that it has taken me almost a year to fully understand and accept that this is our new “normal”. It doesn’t make me anymore noble for taking on the challenge…but, makes me feel special that I was given the opportunity to raise such a special young man.
I have to make it a conscious effort each and everyday to be positive…to always look at the cup half full…and project positive thoughts for my friends and family.
I feel so sorry for my son…and all the other heart babies and any sick child. BUT…I know this defect will make Isaac an amazing man and it has already shaped the other boys in our house, myself, my husband…and every person that meets Isaac.
While I was pregnant with Isaac…4 other girls at church were pregnant at the same time…we were all due within a month of each other. I couldn’t stand how happy they all were…and I knew the whole time that my baby had a defect. But now…I think that I appreciate my kids a whole lot more and don’t take ANYTHING for granted. I think that is a blessing that the other moms don’t have.
Don’t beat yourself up over being jealous. We all are. (like this weekend at tball for my middle son. A baby walked over to me and I asked the mom how old she was. She just turned 1 that week…and I told her that Isaac would be 1 in 2 weeks…and he can’t even sit up yet…urrghh. That does make me sad…but, it will also make it that much meaningful when he does sit up!)
I’ll stop rambling (i could just go on and on)…
But, you’re never alone…you let us know what you’re feeling…and we’ll help you get through it!
HUGS,
Kathy
The objective is not to cure jealousy – it is impossible. The objective is to crowd it out, leave it no more room in your home. It is a conscious effort, Jane. You have to send it packing and not invite it in. But it will likely continue to return, whispering in your ear, “you have a right to feel this way”.
You’re in a “be here now” life. What’s the point of thinking of the could have beens? Really I’m asking…what’s the point? In my opinion, the point is to feed the jealousy and pain. So work on cutting off it’s food supply.
I would like to share more with you on this topic b/c I share some of these feelings – and I will! When you are indulging in some self-care this weekend in Michigan!!!!
love
e
We’re all sinful beings, so feelings of jealousy cannot be cured. I think there are ways to adjust perspectives so that jealousy doesn’t pop up so much, though.
I have these same feelings. It’s hard not to. It’s upsetting for me when I hear someone complaining about how their baby had to endure something (that in our world is nothing) and how AWFUL it is and blah blah. I feel like a bad person for having these thoughts because really, that is all they know, healthy babies, so who can blame them? I’d probably be the same way if I had a healthy child.
I’ve had to search hard in order to find deeper meaning so that I could lessen these feelings. Something I KNOW is that God gave Elijah to ME for a reason. I’m the one mama best suited for this little man, for whatever reason. I was chosen, and that makes me feel so lucky. What an honor!
God chose YOU to care for your sweet little Ramona. He knew you were best suited for the job, above everyone else in the entire galaxy. She is one special little person and someday in the very near future, people are going to sense her depth and wisdom and strength and they will have to deal with THEIR feelings of jealousy because their kids might not have that.
Well, I’m 52 now. Diagnosed with MS at 37, and getting married first time at 47, I grieved (and still do) I would have no children of my own. Read the bible several times and I’m a devoted follower of Christ with no pithy scriptural response. And now, as always, I hear those two little questions like a whisper cover my heart,
“How much do you love Me Jackie?”
“How much do you trust Me?”
My hope and prayer is to live showing Him how much.
I love you Jane.
Jackie
Jane- I have to say that I went/go through exactly what you described above. It is not that I am not happy for those around me, but I thought why not me. I came across this poem and while I do not in any way, shape, or form think that I am a saint. I think that the message is clear. You were chosen because you can handle it. You will always put your child first, you will always do what needs to be done, you will always be there yet know when to push her harder. Your determination, strength, will teach Ramona how to live and fight.
God Chooses A Mom
Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures, and a couple by habit. This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children.
Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen? Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
“Armstrong, Beth; son; patron saint, Matthew.
“Forrest, Marjorie; daughter; patron saint, Cecelia.
“Rudledge, Carrie; twins; patron saint…. give her Gerard. He’s used to profanity.”
Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, “Give her a handicapped child.”
The angel is curious. “Why this one, God? She’s so happy.”
“Exactly,” smiles God. “Could I give a handicapped child a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel.”
“But has she patience?” asks the angel.
“I don’t want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she’ll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence. She’ll have to teach the child to live in her world and that’s not going to be easy.”
“But, Lord, I don’t think she even believes in you.”
God smiles. “No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness.”
The angel gasps, “Selfishness? Is that a virtue?”
God nods. “If she can’t separate herself from the child occasionally, she’ll never survive. Yes, there is a woman I will bless with a child less then perfect. She doesn’t realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a ‘spoken word.’ She will never consider a ‘step’ ordinary. When her child says ‘Momma’ for the first time, she will be present at a miracle and know it! When she describes a tree or a sunset to her blind child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations.
“I will permit her to see clearly the things I see – ignorance, cruelty, prejudice – and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.”
“And what about her patron saint?” asks the angel, his pen poised in mid air.
God smiles. “A mirror will suffice.”
Erma Bombeck
I welcome your thoughts and hope this helped a little.
I am not even sure who sent me to your site to begin following your journey and praying for you.
I am/ was a heart mom. Our son fought hard and passed away a year and a half ago. I struggled watching our fellow heart mom’s that we were in the hospital with (and there were a lot as we were there almost a year of his life) move forward and have such “healthy” children and survive heart surgeries. I struggled with the guilt and jealousy of it all. I did not want to ignore and abandon my friends so I knew that I would have to figure out how to face it.
I began preaching the gospel to myself. not just a single verse but the whole gospel and really for the first time understanding what an incredible God I serve. That has made me loose the anger, jealousy, and guilt and instead replaced it with love, joy and a commitment to pray for those other families.
Not sure if it helps at all but know that it is a very normal human emotion and one that we all have faced in some form or another. In many ways we have to grieve what we lost or perceived we lost. We many times do not see all that we have gained and are gaining through this time.
Terri Grabb
Corbin Grabb’s Mom
I feel like I should clarify that I in no way feel entitled to my jealousy. I think it’s sinful. Although the feelings are real and I feel I need to acknowledge them, I also need to move on. I’m working on it. I like what Terri has said below about perceived loss. Most of my jealousy comes from comparing Ramona’s situation to what I thought it “should” have been or to what others have. I have gained immensely from knowing her and any loss I feel is compared to something imaginary that was never promised by God. I also like what Erin said about not feeding it. Airing my thoughts here is a way for me to get them out in the open and hopefully work through them. Thanks for all of your support and for “showing up” when I’m in a dark place.
Jane,
I don’t know if you remember us…but you did our wedding.
I understand the feelings. Not that I have a child as special as either of yours. But I am pleagued by the same feelings. Yet mine are so much less warrented. In fact I just had our 2nd daughter 5 weeks ago and I see friends having babies and I feel empty and worthless. But what is worse is I look at mine and feel that I don’t want them or desirve them. I even have come up with a list of people to give them to, with hopes that they may have a better mom. And at the same time I want to have more kids and I cry when I think of it, because we are done having kids. Then I read your posts and am so ashamed that I could ever feel that way. I share that with you so you know that even us with “normal” kids (for lack of a better term), are pleagued with feelings that are not “Godly”. I don’t know answers for your or can I lead you to answers. Yet I thank you for your strength. I am amazed that you can raise two beautiful children and not go crazy. I pray for peace in your heart. And I encourage you to keep asking hard questions and keep asking God. I think that he has many blessings in store for you, even in the mist of these trails.
I think there’s quite a bit of wisdom in many of these comments. Here’s something else to notice: it seems you’re envious of others about _important_ and truly valuable things (though I agree that that doesn’t “make it OK” or anything). Some people are envious of the cars or lawn ornaments or shoes that other people have. (Me, I’m envious of stuff I’m too ashamed even to mention here online.) My point is this: I think Jesus can teach you about the holy passions he has given you even though they sometimes come out in distorted ways.
Hi Jane,
I think you’ve struck a chord! It sounds like many of us have struggled with these same feelings. I know I have, and still do. But, I think that what you are feeling is not so much jealousy, as it is a sense of grief and loss. I think sometimes we are so busy pushing these ugly feelings away that they fester and eventually pop up at you when you’re least expecting it. I’ve found that if I allow myself to really grieve when necessary I do a much better job of living a life of gratitude once those feelings are dealt with.
Thinking of you and praying for you,
Andrea
Jane,
I have put off responding to this, because I feel inadequate. I have no understanding of what it is like to be in your shoes, and am only able to cry for you, to pray for you, to listen to you, to be there for you in all of your feelings. I think you are so brave to talk about your jealousy the way you do, and I hope that at least getting it out there is somewhat healing in and of itself.
I’m one of those, perhaps annoying people, who has said “I don’t know how you do it!”, because I admire you so much, and because in saying that I want to express that what you are doing, and the challenge you have been given is a huge deal and not meant to be minimized. I can see how that comment can also serve as a constant reminder of all that is hard.
At risk of sounding trite, or saying more annoying things, I have been thinking a lot about that part in the book by C.S. Lewis, “The Horse and His Boy” where Shasta questions Aslan’s decisions on behalf of his friend Aravis. Aslan tells Shasta “I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no-one any story but his own.” This has brought great comfort to me in some of my darkest hours, but I am not in your shoes, and perhaps it is too easy for me to quote books I think might offer a tiny bit of encouragement. Forgive my ignorance.
Regardless, I love you immensely, and will never stop supporting you, will always be here if you need me, and will never stop praying for you, laughing with you, enjoying you, and praising God that He has allowed me to be part of the lives of Jane, Andy, Ramona, and Simon.
Love,
Bekah
Hi Jane,
I have read your blog and people’s responses… I believe, as others have written, that dysfuntion and jealousy and emotions of the like are part of life (original sin). Learning to accept them and deal with them shows honesty, strength and humbleness. I also believe, at the risk of being the least popular, that one must be careful of isolating others due to their perceived life situation – in this case of “perfect” or “other”. It seems to be a sort of reverse discrimination that, if I am understanding correctly, is what is causing some of the hurt feelings in the first place. All God’s Creatures Have a Place in the Choir (fabulous Irish song for the wee ones) and deserve to be celebrated equally – even the mothers who may be perceived as not appreciating every little thing because their child does not have a special need. While it is hard, I think it is unfair to make these assumptions and the more realistic you let yourself be with equality – the sooner you will feel equal and quelch the jealousy. Also know that when you read this, if reading it one way pisses you off, but you can understand it if you read it another, please take it the other way It is all meant in the context of the blog.
Take care,
Margaret
I hear that you are struggling with this and that your vision really is to leave these feelings behind and live out of your remarkable giftedness. So I can only say amen to the wisdom already given above here and just say that I love you an awful lot, Jane…I know that you’ll continue to move in integrity and authenticity, no matter how difficult the journey is.
Jane I think allowing these thoughts to remain hidden is what feeds the beast. That green monster does not thrive in the light and you’ve thrown back the curtain in a wonderful way. When I read your words, I am struck by these thoughts:
Perfectly normal and to be expected.
Exactly how I would feel.
Still a sin.
She knows that.
What a gift to the rest of us.
You are a dear sister and I think that as long as you refuse to leave this covered up and, therefore, thriving, the further and further you will be able to put these thoughts behind you and thrive yourself. I see you taking steps toward self-care and it will make you stronger. And when Momzilla rears her head again, keep coming to us and we’ll remind you of what is true.
Hi Jane,
I have posted a few times. I can completely understand you. My daughter is now 7 with DiGeorge syndrome. But all my friends were having babies before and after me and I remember really struggling with those feelings as they just “enjoyed” their newborn baby and I guarded myself for the first 2 years because I was sure God would take her home. Then as I spent countless hours (9) to be exact with home health therapy a week and then taking her downtown 3 times a week for more speech therapy while my friends were having playdates and I was dragging 2 other kids with me from therapy to therapy. Fast forward to now. Sometimes I actually feel sorry for my friends with “healthy” kids because they are missing out on some of the smallest blessings that I will never take for granted. Who would think that celebrating walking at 2 would be so wonderful! So many everday things becomes miracles! I now sit at my daughters therapy center and sometimes feel guilty for how “healthy” she is compared to many of the kids I see. When she was 3 and had throat surgery we were at Children’s memorial on a floor with all cancer kids and kids with brain tumors. It all is put in perspective. My daugter I really feel saved my marriage, strengthened my faith and helped me see what really matters in life. She made us focus. When you hold your child and see the scars covering their body and you can’t console them when they are in pain from growing you can only cry out to God in a deep, deep way that in unexplainable. I still have hard days and can fear the future for her but just sit back and enjoy the ride.