Resentment

Life isn't suppose to be about regrets or resent.   But sometimes I feel like I have made so many mistakes and taken so many wrong turns I wish I could do it again.  I must admit had I started this blog topic a week ago, it would have said some very heavy, sad things.  But today I have a new perspective, thanks to a tragedy of a family I don't know.  This may be one of those weird writings where I bounce back and forth a lot, but as I have said before I promise to be raw and write straight from my heart so there is no editing, no second guessing...just me talking, or writing as the case may be.

A few months ago I attended a retreat called Vio de Christo: Notes of Grace.  I was shown unconditional love and told how grace was there for me no matter what.  Well, as  we all should know by now, I'm anything but saintly, and a few dark secrets crept from the corners of my mind.  Thoughts, feelings, things I would never share out loud, so for me to accept this Grace was a challenge.  Finally I spoke to one of the Pastors there and I said the words I had felt for years: "I resent my daughter."  Ouch!  Of course I went on to explain, but even that Pastor had a look that caused me heartache.  Please note I was not emotionless during this conversation - on the contrary I had spent days crying and crying as I struggled with my feelings.  Saying it out loud stung even more than the passing thoughts.  But I continued.  In an earlier post I said how if I had a chance to do it all again, knowing where I would be today, I would change a lot.  That although Kareena is unique and a great kid, completely adorable, I really HATE the life I've created.  Add to that the thoughts I have that my financial problems, which lead to a lesser than desirable home and car, lack of freedom, and virtually no privacy, are all because of me having a kid and being a single mom.  Oh, in reality I know that I could have these struggles in any situation, but it's so easy to say if that one little roadblock was gone it would be so easy.  I could find a job anywhere that pays more, but being a parent means staying close to her father (per Tennessee state Code).  Without being a mom, I could spontaneously go to dinner or drinks with friends, go out on a date, go away for a weekend...oh I could really "live." 

So after confessing that I feel like the worse parent in the world, I was told that I was not, and that God's love and grace was still there for me.  The pastor suggested I speak to my own Pastor and I did.  Again, we discussed how challenging Kareena is and perhaps if she wasn't so "energetic" and "disobedient" I would be more relaxed as a single parent.  I explained my fear of failure, of not doing it like my parents did.  Comparing myself to my mother is one of my greatest flaws.  She was amazing - she had a career, balanced that with being an amazing mother, and managed to keep her marriage on track for 25 years.  Sure we had ups and downs, but there was so much love, attention, and "stuff" I was given as a child that I dreamed I would give my own. Of course the conversation like so many I have had focused on being the best ME and not my mother to Kareena.  I felt good but not great.

Well, that brings me to my new outlook.  I am more greatful for a challenging kid, one who steals food and candy, hides my makeup in her bedroom, redecorates my bathroom with lipstick and my walls with crayon, I love being able to chase her around malls, restaurants and church.  A couple weeks ago a friend posted on facebook about a family that lost their chance at these moments.  A van carrying a younger couple (he 40 her 35) and the wife's parents was rearended during a snowy drive in Michigan.  The wife, Sara, was 9 months pregnant, due in just a few weeks.  Sadly she died at the scene, but miraculously, the baby was born and a heartbeat was recovered.  Little Miranda was on life support for 3 days.  I joined a facebook group to pray for a miracle, but alas, her mother and God won the custody battle and the little angel flew to heaven.  What amazed me more was the husband/father, Chad, and his strength and faith.  Now if that wasn't enough to make me feel horrible for not liking my kid sometimes, I became engrossed in the story. I read the blog the couple started from when they discovered she was pregnant to his last blog on Valentine's day.  I began to know this couple and my guilt festered.  They tried for 16 months to have a child...my child was conceived from a careless, and probably drunken, evening with my live in boyfriend.  They were together for 15 years.  I was with my boyfriend for 9 months.  They were thrilled to be having a child, documenting every moment in his blog, a proud father, and excited mother.  I was scared to death and hesitant at my choices.  Abortion was never an option for me, but I must say knowing the relationship I had with Kareena's dad made it difficult to be excited about our child. 

Reading Chad's blog, I cried.  I realized all his dreams of playing with his child, rocking her to sleep, midnight feedings, first steps and words, were dead.  And here I was complaining about the very things he would give his arm for.   I am still struggling with how to balance everything and make things "normal" for Kareena in our chaotic life, but I no longer resent her - or at least I try not to.  The bills are tough to get paid, and dating is like trying to get a reservation at an upscale restaurant in LA or New York, but things could be worse for us.  She makes me smile, laugh, cry, and definitely is keeping things interesting, but now, I wouldn't trade it for the world.  She is my world, my life, and even though this story didn't magically make things easier for us, it put things in perspective for me.