I can’t tell you how many of the same headline I’ve seen over the past few weeks. “Pandemic Parents are on the Brink”, “Parents are Losing it”, “Parents Can’t Keep Going”, etc. I even saw a story about a group of moms getting together in an empty field just to scream into the void. I think I can understand that instinct even before Covid. Parenting can be exhausting on the best of days and these have not been the best of days.
But I’m doing okay.
I can’t totally relate to these parents who seem to be on the edge of losing their sanity at worst or at the very least they seem to have lost the joy of parenting. I think there are a lot of very real factors that are impacting parents. Unreliable childcare, uncertain school plans, rules that seem to be constantly changing, fears about the health and safety of our children– it’s a lot.
I think the reason I’m not losing my mind is because I had to make peace with a lot of uncertainty many years ago. I can’t control my life. I can’t control the health and safety of my kids. Becoming a parent through adoption and providing care for kids from trauma for the last 19 years means I’ve had to let go of a lot of the traditional expectations about what motherhood and family look like. There are times I feel much more like a passenger than a driver through this whole parenting experience. I think that’s been great preparation for what it’s like to raise kids through Covid.
And I think some of us have more of a personal bent towards not getting too worked up about things. Maybe that’s something that happens when you have a large family, but I know I only have the energy for a certain amount of stress and drama in my daily life. I can’t hold on to tension over everything. There’s a lot I’ve weathered over the years and we’ve mostly been fine.
Then I think about the new moms. The moms who have babies just like my littlest girls who joined our family in the midst of hospital protocols that would only allow one of us to visit them at a time. Masks in the hospital. Masks in the courtroom. Masks at team meetings and early intervention services appointments. Temperature checks everywhere and anxiety hanging thick in the air. What if this bizarre experience of motherhood wasn’t just an odd turn on my journey, but my ONLY frame of reference for parenting? Then I understand a little more why parents are struggling.
This has once again made me realize the value of intergenerational and diverse friendships and the unique loss of community that has happened right at a time when we need it most. Moms who are scared for their kids need moms who have learned to live with this kind of fear on a daily basis as they navigate life as a parent to a child with special needs. I need grandmothers around me who lived through fears about polio. I need to know there are women who have suffered and have still found beauty and redemption. I need to see women who have found themselves in chaos and have managed to create order. I need to know that even in the midst of isolation, I am not alone.
Mothers need to know their support structures are there for them. That means the childcare they need is accessible. Their schools are communicating clearly. They can find time for themselves. And they need community. I can’t control a lot of those other pieces, but I can be community.
I know very deeply how hard it is to let go of the illusion of control. Sometimes I respond with contentment and peace and sometimes I respond by trying even harder to regain control. It’s that fight that wears me out. Have you ever put your fingers into one of those finger traps that might come in a kids’ birthday party favor bag? The more you pull and fight, the more trapped you become. I can see my own struggle with control mirrored there. It’s when I let myself ride the waves instead of trying to personally calm them that I can find some relief.
If you are on the brink and feeling like you just can’t do this bizarre version of parenting anymore, I would encourage you to not only find the women who are in the same stage and can validate your struggle, but come find me. Come find a woman in your world who isn’t on the brink. Share your burdens with her because she may be just the person who can help carry them. They won’t be too heavy for her. Go scream into the void and then find a woman who doesn’t seem to need to scream and figure out what her deal is. How is she still finding joy? What is keeping her from panicking? Is there another way to do this where we don’t have to be so exhausted? Maybe there isn’t, but I don’t think we’ll know unless we ask the people who are figuring out how to ride this wave.