A Mother's Aching Heart

What Do You Do When Your Heart Is Aching and Breaking For Your Child?

In some ways I am so lucky and blessed to have my daughter be so successful. She is smart and articulate. She is wickedly funny. She is careful with her (my) money. She is responsible and honest. I love her politics!  And she is in college pursuing her passion. What could be the problem?

She is lonely. She has a hard time initiating with friends and waits to be called or texted. When no one does, she feels no one likes her and that she is all alone in the world. I don’t know what to say, then. If I tell her how awesome she is she responds with, “You are my mother. You are supposed to feel that way”. It doesn’t help her feel better at all. If I give her advice (oh God.....dreaded mother advice) like maybe you could invite someone to do something with you. She says she doesn’t know what to do and if she can’t even get a response to texting “Hey, what’s up?”, she doesn’t think anyone will respond to an invitation. She is isolated and doesn’t leave her apartment for days. 

Argh! My heart breaks for her. And she doesn’t want to come visit me or have me visit her. Without the structure of school, she is at loose ends. So I try to listen empathically. And then she reassures me that she is fine and will be okay. She knows my heart is aching for her.

I’m imagining that there are many mothers of kids with Special Needs whose hearts break and ache for their children every day. When they come home from school having been bullied, or mocked, or left out, or the last to be chosen on a team, what can we do? For them; for ourselves?  Our kids have to deal with a cruel world that misunderstands them and doesn’t support them in the ways that are needed.

 And  parents who have children with a chronic illness, or a mental illness.....how do they maintain an attitude of bigger, stronger, wiser and kind? How do we listen reflectively? How do we not  pathologize them or infantilize them. And how do we keep ourselves and them from being in a state of denial refusing to address the reality of the situation. How do we not give up on them? How do we face hopelessness? 

How do we explain them to judgmental, “well meaning” friends, teachers, acquaintances and relatives who infer or directly accuse us of poor parenting? How do we deal with our beloved child’s isolation; as well as our own?

I would love to hear from you readers about how you have dealt with this in your own situation. For me, I have run the gamut. At first, I worried silently. I loved her with all my heart, and yet I knew something was wrong. Her Dad thought I was being critical of her and seeing problems when they were not there. I think this is typical in many families where one parent senses something is off and the other defends the child, causing a rift between the  parents. This can go on for years and is so painful to both parents who have different views on what is happening and very different styles of dealing with their children.

After worrying silently, I went to professionals for assessments and evaluations trying to gain more understanding. This is an extremely costly endeavor and invokes such anxiety in parents and children. The parents are scared to death to find out something frightening and the child, no matter how young, is wondering what is wrong with me? Why am I going to all these doctors?

As a child therapist, I do my best to help families with this phase. I am able to use non -judgmental language, and accurate descriptions to help everyone understand what is going on. I must say that I have had mostly great experiences with this, probably because I have been there and know how to talk to the parents and kids with love and compassion about differences.

My next phase was trying to change the world for my daughter. I was in the school helping the school counselor devise empathy training to help the other kids understand her differences. The counselor told me she had done this in my daughter’s 6th grade classroom, and described to her classmates how kids with asperger’s syndrome have no sixth sense (social sense). And that can make them seem awkward or “strange”. But it is not their fault; just like it is not a blind person’s fault if they can’t see. And you wouldn’t make fun of a blind person or tell a blind person to cross the street without assistance, would you? In the same way, the child with a social difficulty needs help and understanding; not derisiveness or tricks being played on them. My daughter apparently raised her hand and said, “That’s me. That’s what I have.” (So asperger’s -like to do that). And several classmates apologized to her right then and there. She  stood up and said, “I will accept your apologies. But you shouldn’t make fun of anyone for any reason.” My heart swelled with pride, but it was also aching for her. She was so vulnerable.

And on it goes. I advocated for her. I tried to raise consciousness about kids with Special Needs. I fought the school system to get her accomodations. I wrote about anti-bullying in the newspaper. But I often cried myself to sleep and worried. I believed in her and knew she would be an outstanding human being. But when your child suffers, you suffer.

As I’ve said before, having other mothers of children with Special Needs to talk to has been invaluable. Finding self compassion has been helpful. And at some moments, I find this awesome connection with her. That makes my heart sing.

Please share your stories with me. It takes us reaching out to each other and saying, “I feel you. I feel your pain”  to bear an aching heart. Bless you for all you bear for yourselves and your children. We need each other and they need us.